


The Intangible Starslip

by J_A_Phillips



Series: J.A. Phillips' Superhero Tales [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/F, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Original Superheroine, POV Original Female Character, Superheroes, Superheroine, Teen Romance, Teenage Superhero, Teenagers, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-11-29 14:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 15
Words: 39,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11443191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_A_Phillips/pseuds/J_A_Phillips
Summary: Cassie Doyle: Teenage daughter of a detective, living in a city of crime and chaos. But now, something huge has happened to her. Her body is changing, letting her turn as solid as titanium, pass through stone, and even fly through the air. She's become something else. Now she has to choose whether to become someONE else.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The following is a story centering around a character I've been tweaking for a few years now. I'd appreciate any and all feedback you can give me on both character and story. With that said, I hope you enjoy this work of fiction.

Star Lake, Michigan. Just like the name implies, it's a city built around a lake shaped like a star. And yeah, it's nowhere near as bad as you'd think a city in a state that actually has a town named Hell would be. But, it's still got a pretty bad crime problem. My dad says it's because the police department, which is already pretty small, doesn't have much in the way of funding, although the same goes for most of the city. The school system isn't much better. Oh sure, they're well-equipped and staffed, but there's a serious problem with disciplining the students. So it's not hard to tell why most people avoid living here, and most people don't even know it's on the map. Trouble is, no matter how crummy a town can be, there'll always be people who don't have much a choice but to live where they can, and...well, here we are.

It's not all that bad, though. At least I have a roof over my head...Well, USUALLY, anyway, but I'll get to that later. Point is, I always try to appreciate that. In fact, I remember, the day my whole life went completely crazy, I was laying in bed, flat on my back, and just staring up at the ceiling for what couldn't have been any less than a half an hour. I wasn't looking at anything particular, and I knew I had to get up, but I just couldn't look any other direction, and I couldn't make myself get up...without a little verbal support, anyway.

"CASSANDRA LINDA DOYLE, GET YOUR BUTT OUTTA BED!" I heard my dad yell from the kitchen. "You're gonna be late for school!"

Oh yeah, that's my name, by the way. You can just call me Cassie, though. But yeah, that was enough to get me to bolt out of bed and jog down the hall. Before I got to the kitchen, though, I followed my usual morning routine of stopping short of Mom's picture in the middle of the hallway and saying good morning to her. I know, it sounds dumb, but...I just don't want to forget her, even if she ran out when I was five.

"Morning, Dad!" I greeted as I practically flew into the kitchen and sat my butt down in a chair.

"You're lucky I was up to start your breakfast for you," Dad grumbled, pouring me a glass of orange juice. "What was taking you so long, anyway?"

"...I dunno, I think I had a weird dream or something," I lied. Well, I think I lied, anyway. I couldn't really remember what I dreamed about before I woke up, but whatever it was, it probably weirded me out something bad. I mean, why else would I spend so long just looking at the ceiling?

"Here," Dad said, sitting a plate with some waffles in front of me before leaning back in his own chair and doing crossword puzzles. "Eat up, you don't wanna miss your bus."

I rolled my eyes at the crossword puzzles, my glance eventually falling on the small shrine to Dad's old detective job off to the side of the room. Like I said, the police department in Star Lake is small and underfunded, so my dad actually worked as a private investigator to try and help people out. Apparently, that's how he met my mom: She was a client of his, and while you always hear about hard-boiled detectives not getting tied down or getting too emotionally attached to their clients...well, my dad was more half-boiled than anything. But he was good at his job. What sucks is that, after Mom ran out, he just couldn't get himself back in his old groove. Pretty sure that's where his near-addiction to crossword puzzles started: It gave him something to solve.

"So, you're coming straight home after school, right?" Dad asked while I chowed down on my waffles.

I took a gulp, not wanting to talk with my mouth full. "Yeah, don't have anything planned. Except finishing that book you lent me."

Dad smirked a little. The book in question was one of his favourite detective stories, The Big Sleep. And don't look at me like that, I know I'm only 16, but I'm mature for my age. And yeah, I don't know whether it's because of my own tastes, or because of Dad's career, but I've pretty much been hooked on detective stories ever since I could read. I DO know, though, that this always made Dad happy. I wonder if he always wanted me to turn out to become a detective when I grew up, to follow in the family business?

"Crap, your bus will be here in like five minutes!" Dad exclaimed after glancing down at his watch. "You'd better hurry up!"

"Oh, right!" I replied, shoveling down the rest of my waffles before finishing off my juice. "Okay, I better get going!"

"Whoa, hang on, aren't you forgetting something?!" Dad demanded as I got out of my chair and grabbed my book bag.

"Don't think so!" I yelled back, grabbing hold of the door knob. "Why, what were you thinking of?!"

"Well...your clothes, for starters," Dad pointed out as I opened the door.

I blushed hard, looking down at myself. Sure enough, I was in my pajamas. And when I say pajamas, I actually mean straight up, fuzzy, purple pajamas. Bunny slippers included, of course. And yes, there WERE a number of neighbours of mine, including other students from my school, out on their daily routines when all of this went down, and just happened to be in the prime position to see me dressed like that. Y'know, it's moments like these that make me wish I could just crawl under my sheets and never return until all memory of me has faded from the public mind.

Five minutes later, I was back outside, now wearing my school uniform. And yes, we have those at my school, and I hate them. Well, okay, I hate WEARING them. Especially since whoever designed them had no sense of modesty. One strong breeze, and I'm Marilyn Monroe. Seeing some of the other girls wearing them, though? Kinda makes it worth the experience, especially one girl in particular that I'll get to soon enough.

Anyway, after a half-hour long bus ride, which did in fact include, among other things, spit balls to the side of my head, I was getting off in front of Maria J. Hanson Memorial High School. Maria Hanson was actually a teacher, and a very hands-on architect. Dad says that she did a lot of the work when it came to building up Star Lake. There's even a statue of her in front of the school, holding a hammer in one hand and a star in the other.

My school day pretty much went like normal from that point on. Math, creative writing, science, and eventually, before I knew it, it was lunch time...and I was picking more spit balls out of my blonde hair. Yeah, that's a common thing for me. My classmates, the girls in particular, HATE me and want to see me suffer as much as humanly possible. The ringleader of these monsters among young women was Charlotte Sampson, a better-than-thou glamazon who was beloved by all who wanted to be popular in high school, and she would gladly step on the backs and necks of anyone she didn't care for. And somehow, she managed to find herself in the majority of my classes, my only reprieve being creative writing. We've met. Repeatedly. Spit balls, common and annoying as they are, are far removed from the worst she's ever done to me, like the time she rigged my locker with a device that shot urine (likely supplied by herself) into my face.

So why, you may ask, does Charlotte hate me? It's very simple: She's a homophobe. Have I mentioned I like girls? If I haven't, allow me to correct that: I like girls. And ever since she has found out about this, she has made it her goal to make my life a living hell. She has even told me that she will continue to do so until I renounce the desire to ever date a girl ever again, at which point she will hook me up with her brother who will, and I quote, 'satisfy me to the point of never wanting to look at another girl for the rest of my life'. Class act, that Charlotte Sampson.

Anyway, it was lunch time, and that is my favourite time of the day in high school. Not because of food, mind you, although I can safely say that the cafeteria food is actually one of the finer parts of the school. No, it's who I got to see during lunch. And, sure enough, as I made my way into the library, there she was: Olette Runnels, sitting at a table and reading comic books.

What can I even say about Olette? She's perfect. Perfect in every way. She's pretty, smart, considerate, compassionate, great with computers, loves stories about heroes, and unless you've done something specifically to wrong her or the people she cares about, she doesn't really have any kind of ill will toward anyone. Though, if you do wrong her friends and loved ones, she will treat you like the devil on Earth. She was my best friend in preschool. She needed a green crayon for her drawing, and I needed a purple one. We've been inseparable ever since. Then, in middle school, we both came out to each other, and the next thing you know, we're dating. And our school uniform on her? At the risk of sounding like a pervert, OH  **MY _GOD_**.

"Hey O," I greeted as I walked up to the table.

Olette looked up and smiled a smile that I swear could melt the hearts of anyone who looked upon it. "Hey sweetie. How are ya?"

"Eh, spit balls notwithstanding, fine," I replied, sitting down next to her as I picked out the last of the spit balls from my hair.

"...Charlotte?" Olette asked, adjusting her glasses.

"Yyyup," I answered. "But at least it's not the urine trap again."

"I swear, if she ever pulls something like that again, I'm gonna punch her lights out," Olette growled.

I smiled, pulling Olette into a tight hug once I was sure no one was looking. "Okay, as sweet as that is, O, I wouldn't want you to get hauled into detention or get suspended for me."

"It'd be worth it, just saying," Olette said with a shrug. "So, we doing homework together after school at your place?"

"Olette, your style of dates is kind of odd," I replied with a giggle. "And I can't. I GOTTA finish The Big Sleep tonight, or I'm NEVER gonna finish it."

Olette snorted, nuzzling my shoulder. "You're lucky your detective otaku mode is really adorable."

I grinned, giving Olette a quick kiss on the temple. "So, how are your comics going?"

"Not so great," Olette admitted, gathering her things into her book bag as we got up from the table. "I mean, the stories are as engaging as ever, but honestly, I just want something new. I want new heroes, especially heroines who aren't a male hero's love interest, sidekick, or offshoot."

I rolled my eyes, giggling. As much as Olette can talk about my 'detective otaku mode', she's every bit as bad when it comes to superhero comics. Especially the ones that star women in the leading role. Don't get me wrong, I respect her choice of fiction, and I can definitely see why stories like that would be attractive to someone. Still, if she was gonna tease me for my detective stories...

"Oh, surely you don't suggest to toss me aside for some sexy, tights-clad superheroine that can break asteroids and hearts?" I asked, gasping over-dramatically as we exited the library and headed out to a nearby tree in front of the school, one of our favourite places to just sit and hang out.

O giggled, giving a playful shove to my shoulder. "Hey, I'm allowed to fantasize. Although frankly, if I was gonna do ANYTHING, it'd be putting YOU in those tights."

I blushed hard. "Well, as appealing an flattering as that is, I wouldn't wanna give you any temptation to neglect our whole 'not until we're 18' agreement."

"Like you don't try to tease and taunt me with that enough already?" Olette countered.

"Aw, look at the lovey-dovey dyke dorks!" a voice mocked from a few feet away from us, my blood turning cold at the sound of it.

We turned to face the source of the voice, and yup, sure enough, there she was: Charlotte, along with a few members of her ragtag group of evil minions. Honestly, she kind of looked ridiculous, posed with her hands on her hips and her chest puffed out, trying to look as intimidating as possible. Really, all I could think was 'Yeah, we know you have big boobs, Sampson. It's God's way of compensating for your crappy attitude'. Still, I knew better than to try and engage her. Olette, however...well, remember what I said about people treating her and her friends badly?

Olette's nostrils flared as she turned to face Charlotte angrily. "What'd you call us?!"

"Please, EVERYBODY knows you two suck face," Charlotte taunted. "Can't find any boys, so you just decided to come out of the closet together?"

"Well, you know how it is: There's just no choice but to turn lesbo when all the guys are taken by the man eaters," Olette retorted, at which point my eye started to twitch in shock. "Which reminds me, how ARE you sleeping nowa-"

"SAY THAT AGAIN!" Charlotte screeched, picking up and throwing dirt in Olette's face. "Say it again, I dare you! I'll curb-stomp your head off!"

I grabbed hold of Olette, helping her get the dirt from her eyes. This was getting out of control. Yeah, I was ticked, no question about it. But now there was a group of students starting to form a ring around us, the tell-tale sign that a fight's about to break out, and all I wanted to do was to get O out of there before things got any worse.

"Forget it, Charlotte, we're not fighting you!" I yelled.

"Why?" Charlotte demanded. "Scared I'll tear all that pretty blonde hair out of your head?"

I just scoffed in disgust, turning away with Olette. Like I said, all I wanted was to get her out of that situation. Unfortunately, turning our backs on Charlotte may have been a bad move. I can't say for sure what it was, but I felt something slam into the back of my legs, just hard enough to send me to the ground and poor Olette with me. I looked up, groaning in pain, as Charlotte stood over me, her entourage laughing at us.

"You know, I haven't forgotten the deal I offered," Charlotte pointed out as I started to get up onto my hands and knees. "We can forget this ever happened, as long as you tell me right now that you're not gay and that you'll never, EVER talk to Olette Runnels ever again. Hell, I'll even hook you up with that brother of mine I mentioned."

I don't know exactly what I was thinking to say what I said next, but...well, let's just say that the rest of my life might've gone VERY differently if I hadn't said it. "...Sorry, but he must suck at the dating game if he needs YOU to be his pimp."

THAT did it. At that point, Charlotte, who up until now had her friends on her side was now on the receiving end of laughter, clenched her hands so tight I thought blood would start leaking from her palms. Her eyes filled with anger and the need for dominance. But me? I just remember glaring back with a look of disgust. Not even hate, really. More like pity. And honestly, I think that just made her angrier, which is why she reeled one leg back and proceeded to swing it as hard as she could directly at my ribs, and there is no doubt, not one, in my mind that she had the intent to completely shatter my ribs.

...That did not happen, however. Instead, to my shock, and to the shock of Olette, Charlotte's friends, and all of the other students standing around watching this unfold, Charlotte's leg connected to my side and then, when I should have been the one in extreme pain, she was the one to fall to the ground, clutching her leg and screaming bloody murder. I looked at her, as Olette and I finally managed to help each other to our feet, as tears streamed down Charlotte's face and various obscenities flew from her mouth, like she'd been shot in the leg.

"Honey, are you okay?" Olette asked as we backed off, just as a pair of teachers made their way to the group.

I didn't know what to say at that point. I just remembered looking down at where she'd connected with that kick, and feeling it with my hand. There was no pain whatsoever. In fact, I barely felt anything at all when she kicked me. It was like someone had thrown a piece of paper at me. The spit balls from earlier hurt worse than that kick, and that kick would've probably been strong enough to put her on the school football team's starring line-up. All I could think of at that point was the same sentence over and over, repeating itself in my head.

_What in the frickin' hell just happened...?_


	2. Chapter 2

About an hour after everything that happened with Charlotte, Olette and I were sitting in Principal Caine's office. He'd called my dad and told him we were involved in a fight, and now he was on his way, being driven to the school by his old friend from the force, Sergeant Mack Matthews. Mack is actually such a close friend, basically being Dad's source of information inside the police department when he was a detective, he's practically part of the family. Well, at least I've always thought so. Almost like my uncle in a way.

While I waited, I glanced at Olette as she fidgeted in her chair, grasping the hem of her skirt. Her parents had been called too, but her dad was at work and couldn't get away, and her mom was looking after Olette's little brother and couldn't get a babysitter to watch him. Really, the only reason she was still with me in the office was...well, to be with me. To keep me company until my dad got here, and then to make sure I was alright. I think part of her was also afraid Mr. Caine was going to suspend me for what happened to Charlotte.

Finally, there was a knock on the door, after which it was opened and my dad walked in. I immediately got up out of my chair and hugged him. Didn't even give it a moment's thought. Maybe I was feeling a little scared and sad and needed a hug myself, maybe I just knew he'd want to hug me and saved him the trouble. Not sure, really. Just felt right was all.

"Cass, what happened?" Dad asked as I broke away, letting him take a seat while I did the same.

"You know that girl Charlotte?" I replied, getting a quick nod. "Well, she was bullying us, and she kicked me, and...and I don't know what happened. She just hurt her leg on me."

"That's not what SHE says," Principal Caine noted. "Miss Sampson claims you hit her in the leg with a club of some sort and threw it away."

"That's NOT what happened, I swear!" Olette insisted.

"Relax, Miss Runnels, I believe you," Mr. Caine went on, holding up a hand. "In fact, even if I didn't, as the story IS rather strange, there are more than enough eye witnesses to back you up."

"So, what about Charlotte?" my dad asked.

"Well, the doctors that took her to the hospital suspect her leg may be broken, but nothing certain just yet," Mr. Caine replied. "No one knows how this could've happened. As far as what she did...well, I WOULD normally suspend her, but seeing as how she won't be in school for some time, it'd be pointless. Instead, once she's back, she's to report to detention for a week, and to stay away from you."

Dad sighed, leaning back in his seat. "...If it's all the same with you, Mr. Caine, I'd like to take my daughter home for today."

"It's alright, Kenneth," the principal responded. "I'll make sure her teachers know."

I gave a quick nod, the lot of us all getting up out of our seats. Me, my dad, and Olette headed out of the principal's office and to the main doors to the school. Sure enough, sitting in his car was Mack, waiting for me and my dad while combing his hair, because God knows that apparently 'glorious, red hair like his must be kept perfectly styled at all times', or at least that's what he always tells me. Before leaving, though, I turned around and gave Olette a tight hug, unable to hold back the slight purr when she rubbed my back.

"You gonna be okay, baby?" O asked, whispering in my ear.

"I'll be fine," I answered, although even now I honestly don't know if I was telling the truth or not there.

Taking a quick glance around and being satisfied that no one was looking, I gave Olette a deep kiss before finally letting go of her and heading out the door with my dad. We got in the car and buckled ourselves in, Mack giving a kindly "Hey", but otherwise, it was pretty quiet in the car...for about five minutes. And really, I knew it was a matter of time before the silence was broken, and I knew exactly who it was who was gonna break it. And, sure enough...

"...So did you see the angle she was coming at you from?" my dad asked.

I facepalmed REALLY hard when he said that, and didn't even try to stop myself from groaning. "Ugh, really Dad?"

"I'm sorry, but I've NEVER heard of anything like this happening!" Dad apologized. "I've never heard of someone kicking a person so hard they break their own leg, and even if I had, I guarantee the person they kicked wouldn't have come out without so much as a scratch on them!"

"Whoa, WHAT?" Mack demanded, keeping his eyes on the road. "THAT'S what happened? But...but that's impossible!"

"So what, you don't believe me?" I accused, folding my arms.

"No, I DO believe you, Cassie, I do," my dad said quickly, Mack nodding along with him. "I just...It doesn't make any kind of logical sense. You MUST be able to see why this would be difficult for me to understand."

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "I know, I know. I don't know what's going on, but-"

"Cassie, put your seat belt on!" Mack exclaimed, looking back in the rear-view mirror at me. "We're driving!"

"I di-" I started to say before looking down. Sure enough, the seat belt wasn't strapped over me. It was buckled in, but it wasn't over me, it was underneath me. "...Okay, that's WEIRD."

"Maybe I'm not the only one over-thinking this?" Dad suggested as I unbuckled the seat belt and pulled it over my lap.

"I guess not..." I replied.

I buckled the belt again, looking out the car window in confusion. See, here's the thing: I KNEW I'd buckled my seat belt over myself, and yet, lo and behold, there it had been underneath me. And yet, while no one in the car was ready to communicate this, we ALL could've sworn it wasn't buckled in before I got in the car. There wouldn't have been any reason for it to be. Of course, that could only mean that, not thinking straight, I had actually buckled the seat belt before getting in the seat. That was the only logical explanation. And yet, there was a part of me that just KNEW I'd buckled it in after getting in the car and sitting down.

The rest of the drive was pretty quiet, mostly just Mack and my dad talking about stuff going on with the police. I wasn't really listening in that much, other than picking up on them mentioning 'Alfonso'. Yeah, we have an actual mafia-style mobster in Star Lake. The way Dad tells it, Tammy Alfonso is kind of a psycho, and he tried for years to help the cops eventually bring her operations down for good, but never managed to nail her.

Eventually, we arrived in front of my house, and Mack let us out, but not before giving me the old sympathetic head tilt. "Hey, Cass? Don't overthink what happened too much. Sometimes, things just happen, and you can't explain it. I'm just glad you're okay."

I smiled, giving a little wave before heading into the house, leaving Mack and my dad to talk some more outside before Mack finally drove off. After that, my dad came in. Neither one of us was really sure what we wanted to say, and I was just kind of exhausted from everything that had happened, so I excused myself to my room and flopped back onto my bed. I didn't even bother changing out of my school uniform, nor did I care that it was only a few minutes before 2:00. I just wanted to sleep, maybe even wake up and find out this was all some weird dream I'd had.

Speaking of, do you know where dreams come from? See, the thing is, even when the rest of your body is asleep, a lot of times, your brain is still going through its usual motions, sorting through information, recalling stuff, etc. All that information plays out as dreams. That's why a lot of dreams can be kind of jumbled and not make a lot of sense in hindsight: The information your brain is processing is all mixed up. And yet, for some reason, everybody still, at some point, has the same stupid dream about catching the bus naked. It makes me wonder what the hell we dreamed about before buses were invented. Catching a train naked? A horse-pulled carriage?

Well, whatever. Point is, after a few minutes of lying back in bed and letting my eyes rest, I found myself standing outside in the rain, butt naked, waiting for the bus. Except, for some reason, it never came. I just remember waiting there forever, and the bus just would not show up. So, I started walking, and the sidewalk was covered completely in broken bottles, but with every step I took over them, I felt nothing. Sometimes, my feet wouldn't even make contact. They'd just go right through.

I also couldn't help but notice that the sun and the moon were taking up opposite sides of the sky, and in the middle of day and night was a single star. And, for some reason, the star seemed to move along overhead with me, taking the division between night and day with it. No matter where I walked, the sky above me never changed. The star stayed centered over my head no matter where I went or how fast or slow I trudged along. And somehow, out of everything else going on, THAT was what was bothering me most of all. So, eventually, I just stopped walking and looked straight up at the star, and after a little while, I wasn't standing on the sidewalk anymore. I was flying up toward the star. I didn't even question that I was doing it.

After what felt like a really long time, I reached up toward the star. It was really small, though, small enough to fit in the palm of my hand, so I tried to grab hold of it. Instead, though, my whole body slipped straight through the star, and when I came out the other side, Olette was holding my hand, every bit as naked as I was. Her brunette locks floated down around me, entwining with my blonde hair, and her green eyes closed in on my violet ones. It was like we were melting into a single person, and I just let it all happen, until finally, I looked up, and the sky was back to how it should be, with the sun where it should be...and I was laying on the roof, wearing my school uniform.

I sat up immediately, pretty freaked out, because I could just tell, right then and there, from the feel of the roof tiles on my hands and legs, that this was not a dream anymore. I was on the freaking roof of my house. And to say that I was maybe a little panicky at this point? Yeah, that'd be an understatement.

"Wh-Wh-What am I doing on the roof?!" I asked absolutely no one, and frankly, I was more than a little glad no one was around to notice. "Why am I on the roof?!"

I looked down over the edge of the roof and immediately regretted it. My house isn't all that big, honestly. Just the main floor, an attic, and a basement. Still, I was way too high for my liking, and I knew I couldn't just jump off the roof, so there was no way off, other than to climb down the edge and hope I didn't fall and break my legs. So, yeah, Panic City. Population: Me.

"I don't wanna be on the roof!" I said to myself over and over, curling up into a ball and rocking. "I don't wanna be on the roof! I wanna be in my room! I wanna-HEY!"

In the middle of saying that, suddenly, I fell. I fell through the roof. Not that the roof caved in or anything, not that there was a hole in it, I fell through the solid roof and landed on my bed. My eyes were wide as saucers, and I was trying to make sense of what just happened, especially the part where my eyes witnessed the impossible phenomenon of phasing through solid matter, when my door opened, and my dad peered his head into my room.

"Honey, are you alright?" he asked, looking concerned. "I heard some kind of noise, like you fell on your bed or something."

"...I-I'm alright," I lied through my teeth. "I...I think I just had a nightmare is all."

"You were tossing THAT much in your sleep?" Dad inquired, which I nodded to. "...Cass, maybe you should speak to your school psychologist tomorrow. I think what happened today might really be bothering you."

I nodded again, a little shakily. "...Yeah. Yeah, you're probably right."

My dad and I stayed like that for a little while before he eventually left me to figure this all out. I just kept trying to tell myself over and over that what happened was a dream. But it wasn't. The stuff with me walking around naked? THAT was a dream. Me being on the roof, though? THAT was real. It felt WAY too real to be a dream, and no way could I have tossed around THAT much in my sleep to simulate falling from the roof into my bed.

I got up and walked over to my mirror. Reaching a hand out, I touched the mirror, feeling the cool glass on my fingertips. Closing my eyes, I pressed on the glass, and after a few seconds, I felt this bizarre sensation of the coolness of the glass passing through my fingers. I opened my eyes, and to my astonishment, my fingers were actually beginning to pass through the glass.

Retracting my hand, I immediately went for my cellphone. As quickly as I could, I sent Olette a text message, telling her that I needed to see her after school, and about a minute later, she replied, letting me know she'd be here as soon as she could. I let out a hard sigh, relieved that she was coming. Whatever was going on, I needed her here with me. Now all that was left was for me to count down the time until she arrived, all the while hoping she wouldn't think I was some kind of freak when she found out.

Oh, if only I had known...


	3. Chapter 3

It was about an hour after school ended. I was still waiting alone in my room. After a while, I decided to get changed out of my school uniform and into a comfy purple sweater and black shorts. And yes, I have a thing for purple, black, and yellow, and no, I am NOT a Lakers fan. I get that question all the time. I just like those colors is all, and I think they look good on me. And I love my sweater. It's nice and comfy, and I wanted to be comfy right then and there. Would help me calm down, no matter what was going on...well, usually, anyway.

"Honey, Olette's here!" I heard my dad yell, and suddenly, I wasn't so calm anymore, but I couldn't let him in on that.

"Okay!" I yelled back, getting up and opening the door, finding myself face to face with Olette and getting hugged tightly by her. "Hey, O."

"Hey," she replied, rubbing my shoulders. "You okay?"

I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I just...I really wanted to see you is all."

"Alright, well, I'm going to the living room to watch TV," Dad announced. "Don't you two be getting up to anything, y'hear?"

"Daaaaaad!" I whined, turning bright red as my dad headed back to the living room, laughing.

I always hate it when he does that. See, I know for a fact that he knows Olette and I have no intention of 'getting up to anything' until we're older. He just likes to tease us because he knows I'll always overreact. Well, God help me, there are days when he does that, and it makes me wanna scare him into thinking we are sometime when he comes home. Just have a bunch of our clothes on the floor leading to my room and have him charge in, only to find us jumping on the bed. That'd be such sweet revenge to see the look on his face.

"Ignore him," Olette said, rolling her eyes as she eased the door to my room closed. "I'm just glad you texted me. So, did you wanna do homework, or-"

"O?" I interrupted, feeling my throat suddenly tighten a little out of nervousness. "I, um...I need to tell you something really, really important."

Olette was quick to pick up on how afraid I was, holding me in her arms. "Hey, whatever's going on, I'm here for you. I promise."

I nodded, sighing hard. "Okay, um...Okay, you might wanna sit down for this." I waited as Olette did as I asked, all the while pacing a little. "Now...Ugh, there's something going on with me. I feel...different, and I'm afraid to tell you. I'm afraid of how you're gonna react."

Olette blinked, a slight smirk forming at the edges of her mouth. "...Cass? I don't wanna sound like I'm not taking this seriously, but am I the only one getting déjà vu here? I feel like you're coming out of the closet for the second time, which I didn't even think was possible."

I let myself giggle for a moment, knowing Olette was just trying to break the ice a little for my benefit, before starting over. "I just...Okay, I need you to promise that you won't freak out, and that you won't tell ANYONE what I'm about to show you."

"...Honey, you know I wouldn't do anything of the sort," Olette pointed out, giving me that trademark warm smile of hers. "And whatever's going on, I'm here for you. You could have a penis growing under those shorts, and I'd still love you. You know that, right?"

At that point, I'm not going to lie, part of me wanted to toss our rule about not having sex until we're 18 out the window. To hear her say that with such conviction, I knew she meant it, and frankly, I was ready to have her babies right then and there. But, more importantly, hearing her say that put me way more at ease. So, with a nod and a deep breath, I reached one hand out to my desk. Olette watched me, confused, until suddenly, my hand and forearm were moving through my desk, dipping down through it before being pulled back out. At that point...well, she wasn't freaking out exactly, but she was DEFINITELY having trouble processing this.

"I...you...wha...?" O stammered, baffled.

"That's not all," I cut in. "I can turn super solid. Like, really, REALLY solid. Steel solid."

"How...and when?" Olette demanded, her eyes locked onto me.

I shrugged. "I don't know, but it started today when-"

"When Charlotte kicked you...!" O realized with a gasp. "Oh my God..."

"I didn't mean to, though!" I insisted, pacing back and forth. "I just, I was just laying there on my hands and knees, and here she comes with a kick, and-"

"Cass...I..." Olette started to say in a hushed tone, her skin getting paler.

"I didn't mean to break her leg, I swear!" I went on, continuously retracing my steps over and over from one side of my room to the next. "I didn't know I could do that before today, and then the next thing I know, I'm slipping through solid objects and floating up through my roof and-"

"C-Cassie, baby, I really think-" Olette tried to cut in, stammering a little as her skin was now starting to turn red.

"And I don't know what I should do!" I cried, tears welling up in my eyes. "What should I do?!"

"Put your clothes back on!" Olette exclaimed in as hushed a voice as possible.

I blinked, my skin turning red as a tomato. I didn't wanna look down, but there was absolutely no stopping that. Sure enough, my eyes started to peer downward, and there, to my extreme horror, were my clothes in a jumble on the floor, leaving me...well, WITHOUT clothes. In front of my girlfriend. In my bedroom. ALONE.

"I'M SORRY!" I squeaked, grabbing my clothes piece by piece and quickly scrambling to put them back on. "I didn't mean to do that! Y-You have to pretend you didn't see that!"

"That's gonna be really hard..." Olette muttered as, I kid you not, she had to wipe the tiniest bit of drool from her lips.

"I'm SO sorry..." I whimpered, putting my sweater back on and wiping my eyes. "I don't know what's happening to me. Sometimes I can kinda control it, but others...and most of the time, my clothes stay on, but other times, they just slip right off."

Olette nodded, trying to put everything together in her head. "I, uh, I think you need to calm down. Maybe whatever happened to you might be controlled by your emotions and your current mental condition. Like, when you freak out like you did just now, your body just does what it wants."

"Okay, okay," I panted, getting in my chair and rolling up into a ball, slowing and deepening my breathing as I started to get control of myself. "...Alright...Oh man, Olette, what am I?"

Olette paused for a moment, as if she was trying to decide whether to say what was on her mind or not, before finally saying "...Cass? I think you're a superhero."

"...Oh God..." I moaned, burying my face in my hands.

"Well, what else would you call someone who does what you do?" Olette asked.

"I dunno...a ghost, maybe?" I guessed, pulling my hands away from my face and staring at them. "I mean, what if I died in my sleep and now I'm just a ghost?"

"Hey, hey..." Olette cooed, wheeling my chair closer to her and holding me tight. "You're not dead, okay? You're not a ghost. Trust me, I can tell."

I smiled sadly, kissing O's cheek. "Oh yeah? So, on top of superheroes and computers, you're a big expert on ghosts now too?"

"Bitch, I might be," Olette joked, stroking my hair.

"Alright, let's say, for argument's sake, that I'm a superhero," I said with a sigh. "I guess it's the better option than being a ghost. What happens now?"

Olette put a finger to her chin, considering that for a moment. "...Well, first things first: We need to know more about what you can do."

And that's pretty much what we did. After we told my dad we were going to the library to study, we took a bus out to the old quarry on the edge of town. Nobody was working there, so we had the area all to ourselves with no one to see what we were doing. The perfect place to train. Also, I decided to change into a tank top and yoga pants, on the grounds that they'd be better to train in, and that I was not willing to mess up my favourite sweater.

"Okay, let's try your super solidification first," Olette suggested, holding up a pen and a clipboard.

"...You're already giving my powers names?" I asked, unable to fight back a smirk. "You're totally getting into this, aren't you? Next, you're gonna put me in a costume, aren't you?"

Olette blushed, refusing to make eye contact. "N-No, not at all..." I just continued to stare at her, hands on my hips and tapping my foot as her facade crumbled away. "... ...Well, okay, MAYBE I was thinking it. You know Scotty DeFazio, the guy who makes my cosplays for anime conventions?"

I rolled my eyes. "...Yes. Go on."

"Well, he's been talking about wanting a new project, something to really challenge him," Olette explained. "But, hey, we don't HAVE to talk to him about this. Only if you really feel like it's something you wanna do. I promise."

"Okay, I believe you," I said with a giggle.

Truth be told, as irritated as I was acting, Olette getting as into this as she was was making me feel a lot more comfortable. I'd been worried sick while waiting for her to show up that she might think I was a freak. To see her instead fully embrace what was happening to me, trying to encourage me, even geeking out a little at the idea of me having superpowers, it made me more at ease. And, while I wasn't necessarily looking forward to the process of having a costume made, nor was I sold on the idea of becoming a superhero, I have to admit, I WAS curious to see how it might look.

"Okay, so, super solidification," Olette repeated, readying her pen. "I want you to tell me exactly what you feel when you turn more solid."

"Okay..." I muttered, taking a deep breath and focusing on turning my body more solid, explaining the process as it went on. "Okay, I feel...kind of heavier. Like I'm putting on more weight, but it's not like I'm sagging or anything. I'm just...heavier. And my skin, it feels harder."

"Hmm," Olette hummed as she wrote down everything I said. "Maybe your ability to turn more or less solid is tied to your mass. The more or less heavy you are from what you usually are, the more solid or intangible you become."

"...'Intangible'?" I asked, tilting my head.

Olette blushed, realizing she just said something that wasn't in my vocabulary. "Sorry. It usually means lacking a physical presence, but in this case, it's more like you can't be touched, held, pushed against, or stopped. Physical objects coming in contact with you have no real effect on you."

I cringed a little, trying to assess all of this. "Okay...and when I turn super solid, it's the opposite? My physical presence is increased?"

"Yeah, but I wonder how much it increases..." O wondered aloud, glancing at a boulder a few feet away from me. "...We've already seen what happens when something else comes into contact with you really hard and fast. I wonder what would happen when the opposite occurs?"

I looked over at the boulder, quickly putting two and two together. "...You want me to hit the boulder, don't you?"

Olette smirked, almost looking like a Cheshire cat. "Kinda."

I made a fake gagging noise, making myself sound kind of annoyed or indignant to the idea. However, if I'm being completely honest with myself...I kinda wanted to hit the boulder, too. If nothing else, if this test ended badly, it was probably gonna be really funny in hindsight. In fact, knowing this, I motioned to Olette's cellphone, and she quickly understood what I was suggesting, turning the camera on and recording what was about to happen.

Giving my knuckles a quick crack, which was actually pretty hard since they had clearly hardened as well, I stepped up to the boulder. Like an idiot, I went for the whole sumo stomp thing, just to be funny. However, what I was NOT counting on was for the gravel underneath me to give way really badly when I stomped down on it, turning rocks into sand. Seeing this just made me more eager to try hitting the boulder, though, so I clenched a fist tightly and gave it a good punch. And I won't lie, part of me totally expected to punch the boulder, hurt myself, and run around going "Ow, ow!" like a frigging cartoon character. Instead, to my amazement, my fist actually put a hole through the boulder.

"WHOA!" Olette exclaimed, almost dropping her phone at the sight of my fist smashing into the boulder. "That was...that was AWESOME!"

"Uhh, yeah," I groaned, pulling back on my arm...with little success. "Except...I'm kinda stuck."

"Oh, crap, um..." Olette cursed. "Quick, turn your arm intangible!"

I nodded, feeling my arm lose mass as it phased out of the boulder. Once it was gone, the rock started to cave in a little. Seeing this, I gave a little smirk, turning myself as solid as I could. Then, I lifted my leg up as high as I could and axe-kicked the boulder with a yell. This proceeded to smash the freaking boulder in half, sending the two halves rolling to the ground. I took a step back from the ruined rock, absolutely astonished by what I'd done.

"...Holy crap...!" I whispered.

"Seconded," Olette replied, eyes wide. "Oh man. We need to do more tests."

So that's what we did. We practiced rolling big rocks down a hill and seeing if I could phase through them or turn solid enough to stop their motion. Worked without a hitch. We tested my running speed, which was at least three times my usual. Finally, we tried seeing what would happen if I turned my arm intangible, phased it through a solid object, and then turned my hand solid. Well, it worked, and I pulled my hand back with enough force to break the rock it was phased through. Unfortunately...well, this is where we started figuring out my weaknesses a little more.

"Ow!" I cried, clutching my wrist.

"Are you okay, Cass?!" Olette asked, running over and inspecting my wrist.

"Yeah, just...ow, cramp," I moaned. "Killer freaking cramp in my wrist."

"Here," O offered, reaching into a compartment in her book bag to get an ice pack.

I blinked, taking the pack and applying it to my wrist. "...You just carry these around with you?"

"My mom makes me," Olette explained in as deadpan a tone as possible. "Better?"

"Yeah, I think-" I started to say before a shivered hard, feeling my whole arm harden. "Whoa, okay, that was weird! It's like my arm hardened from the ice!"

"Weird..." Olette muttered before reaching back into her bag and retrieving a heat pad. "Here, try this."

"...Your mom is kind of obsessive, just saying," I replied, taking the heat pad and putting it on my wrist in place of the ice pack. Leaving it there for a few seconds, my body seemed to heat up, and the pad began to dip through my arm before I gave it back to Olette. "Okay, THAT was making me intangible."

Olette started writing on her clipboard again. "Well, from the sound of things, it looks like your body and your powers are affected by hot and cold. Also, and I'm just making an educated guess here, trying to do multiple changes to your body at once can cause it to cramp up. Better watch that."

I nodded, giving my arm a small shake as the pain died down. "Got'cha. So...I think that covers everything."

"Not exactly," O retorted, folding her arms. "You mentioned something floating through your roof?"

I sweatdropped, having forgotten mentioning that. "Oh...Yeah, um...I was having a dream. I was flying. And then, when I woke up, I was laying down on the roof."

I swear, at this point, I could practically see stars twinkling in Olette's eyes. "Wouldn't that mean you can...fly?"

See, THIS is where I was afraid of Olette calling me a superhero. It's bad enough that superheroes go out every night, dressed in skintight costumes, and punch out armed thugs and supervillains. But, on top of all of that...Well, if the thing on the roof didn't make it clear enough, allow me to remedy that: I kinda had a slight terror of heights. I remember going on a trip to Toronto as a kid and going as high as I could up the CN Tower, and being really excited about it...until I got up there and looked down. I never wanted to be that high ever again. And now I was being called a superhero and told that I could fly. Suddenly, the ghost thing didn't sound so terrible.

"L-L-Let's leave the flying thing for another day, shall we?" I practically begged. "All of this is kind of a lot to take in all at once as is. I need some time to absorb everything."

Olette pouted a little, but nodded in understanding. "Okay, okay. C'mon, we should head for home."

I gave a nod and a sigh of relief, following Olette as we left the quarry. We made our way to the bus stop and hopped on the first one that came by, and about a half hour and two transfers later, we were coming up on O's stop. Before she got off, though, she leaned in super close and whispered in my ear "...Just promise you'll tell me if you fly. And don't worry, I won't talk to Scotty unless you're really sure." I nodded, shivering a little at the feel of her breath in my ear and on my neck, and watching her get off the bus. God, that girl is intoxicating.

From there, I rode the bus to my stop, almost missing it as I was so deep in thought, and heading back in to my house, finding Dad asleep on the couch. The whole day seemed impossible, but I knew it wasn't. It was real. It was really happening. Before this morning, I was just a completely normal, whatever that means, teenager. Now, though? I'd become something something else. That much I was certain about. The only question in my mind, though, was if I was going to become someONE else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this juncture, I should probably point out something: I'm aware of the fact that the age of consent for sex in the state of Michigan is 16, meaning Cassie and Olette are legal. That's not the reason they're waiting until they're 18. They're waiting until they're 18 because then they'll roughly be out of high school and entering adulthood, and they don't wanna rush into this. Just thought I'd make that clear, in case anyone was wondering.


	4. Chapter 4

It was the day after I first got my powers. I'd just finished putting on my school uniform and was looking myself over in my mirror. I looked perfectly normal, and I was getting better at controlling my body, but I still wasn't feeling completely normal. Just the night before, I almost dropped and broke a mug that I was holding in my hand. It was filled with hot cocoa. Lucky for me, I saw it start to fall, and caught it with my other hand. If nothing else, I was beginning to learn that I COULD still stay solid when exposed to heat, it just took more focus the hotter it was. I guessed the reverse was probably true with cold, and that controlling my body in the summer and winter would be a lot harder.

I was just about ready to head out when I spotted something out of the corner of my eye: An thin, black robe of mine that I wore as a costume one Halloween. It was poking out of the closet. I don't know what exactly encouraged me to do this, but I grabbed a pair of scissors, cut a strip from the end of the robe, and then cut a pair of holes in it, making it a bandanna to wear over my eyes. I guess maybe part of me thought I might need it in case I was seen in public using my powers, or maybe I was just a little more enamoured with the idea of becoming a superhero than I was letting myself believe.

"Cassie!" Dad called from down the hall. "C'mon, your bus'll be here in a few minutes!"

"Right, coming!" I cried, grabbing my book bag in a hurry, stuffing the mask into my pocket, and running down the hall, giving Dad a quick kiss on the cheek on the way out. "Love you, Dad! Later!"

"Don't forget, I'm going on a ride-along with Mack today, so if I'm not here when you get home, don't worry about it!" Dad yelled after me as I ran out to catch my bus.

I gave a thumbs up to let him know I heard him before getting out to the bus stop. The bus ride today was possibly the easiest I'd had all year long, and yet, at the same time, most awkward. The same went for my classes. Here's why: After what happened with Charlotte, no one was really bothering me, or trying to pick on me. In fact, I think they might've been scared of me, and that bothered me worse than any amount of spit balls they could've shot at me.

Even in creative writing, I couldn't seem to focus. I just couldn't stop thinking about everything that had happened the day before. It didn't help much that the mystery solver in me was going over and over the day's events in my head, trying to figure out what had happened. Other than Charlotte kicking me, what happened that day that changed me from a physically normal teenage girl into someone who could change their body so things could either pass through her or break themselves off of her? I was missing a key part of the mystery, and that was annoying to me.

Before I knew it, it was lunch time. I let myself smile as the lunch bell rang. Time to go see Olette. Or, so I thought, anyway. I got maybe a few feet out the door of the classroom when I felt a hand grab me by the shoulder. And before you ask, yes, that can still happen to me. If I don't know I'm about to be grabbed or whatever, I can't very well turn myself intangible. Plus, if I did that at school, it'd freak them out.

"Hey, blondie!" a voice rang out. I turned just in time to spot the girl who grabbed me: It was one of Charlotte's pals. Before I knew it, two more had snuck up around me. I'd basically walked into a trap. "Charlotte says 'Hi'!"

My eyes narrowed. "Yeah, and the Lannisters send their regards. What do you want?"

Before I had a chance to react, or make any other snarky comments, the girls shoved me into a locker and shut it. I tried opening it, but nothing. Obviously, they must've locked it, which meant this was probably one of their lockers. I pounded on the door, yelling for Charlotte's friends to open up, but all I could hear was their laughter heading down the hall.

This, I was learning, was one of the suckier parts of having superpowers. I knew I could either phase through the door, or smash it open if I turned solid enough. But, not only would doing that leave a lot of people terrified, but it'd also out me. And lemme tell you something: When you've already been outed as a lesbian, but then you have something else that you're even more afraid to let become public? Your life officially has a very sucky flavor to it.

Lucky for me, though, as I suddenly realized, there was another way out of this. All I had to do was turn intangible and go out the back of the locker, where no one would see me. It was the option that got me out of this, and invited the least amount of questions. I mean, what were Charlotte's goons gonna do? Tell the teachers I magically escaped the locker after they stuck me inside?

So, with that in mind, I executed my brilliant strategy of walking out the back of the locker. I even did a moonwalk, just because I felt so clever and wanted to show off with my ingenious plan, even if no one saw it. However, it was at that point, having phased through the wall, that I realized something very important: The wall behind the locker was the back wall of the school. Also, I was on the third floor. This, of course, meant that, as I visually confirmed by looking down, I was now standing on NOTHING.

_...Well, shit,_  I thought to myself. I didn't SAY that, though, because Dad's always told me not to use certain swear words until I was 18. Also, my vocabulary at the time was very limited, meaning all I could say was "AHHHH!", all the while I tucked my body up and was prepared to fall to the ground...except that I didn't. Instead, I was hovering in the air. Flying, just like Olette said I could.

Now, I'll admit, part of me was still scared out of my mind at this point. However, and I don't know where I had the time, energy, and...well, anything else to consider this, the other part of me realized I was flying up in the air in plain sight. So, I looked around kinda frantically, totally expecting to see someone either freaking out at the flying girl, or trying to sneak a peek up my skirt. Thankfully, no one really went out around the back of the school, since it was all fenced off to keep students from going into the woods behind the school. Apparently, that was done because, before it was fenced off, students would go back there to smoke weed or make out. In fact, I heard once that two students went back there and got caught by a teacher having sex.

Anyway, back to the important stuff. So, I was hovering in the air at this point. I wasn't really sure how this was working, whether I had turned so light that it was possible for me to hover using the air currents and thermals and stuff, or if that was even possible to do and that flight was just an added bonus for my powers. I'm not a scientist, nor do I pretend to be one for videos on YouTube. But I knew that, at that exact time, I felt lighter, so whether me flying was tied to that or not, I figured that the way to get down was to make myself heavier. Of course, that meant making myself heavier at a slow rate, so that I didn't crash into the ground and make a Cassie-sized crater, or a 'Crassie', if you will. So, that's exactly what I did, making myself heavier bit by bit, and sure enough, I started to descend back to the ground. While I was doing that, though, I realized that I was able to change my trajectory, so I made myself land in the woods a ways away from the school.

Now that I was back down and not floating in mid-air, a big part of my mind was more thankful than I'd ever been to be standing on solid ground again. But, then I thought back to what had just happened, realizing I had control of my ability to ascend or descend through the air, how hard and fast I could fall, if at all, and that I could float wherever I wanted while I was in the air. With that in mind, it was like the fear of heights no longer existed in my mind. And really, why should it? What did I have to be scared of heights for anymore? I could freaking FLY!

With that, I dug out my phone and sent a quick text message to Olette, telling her I'd be late for our lunch meeting and to just do her own thing, and that I'd meet her later to explain everything. Once that was taken care of, I ran a ways into the woods, putting some distance between me and the school, before jumping as hard as my legs were capable of propelling me, letting my weight drop as I went up. Within seconds, I was hovering just under the tree tops. I looked up and saw the sun peering through the leaves. I reached up at the light, like I did in my dream, only this was no dream. This was REAL. I was gonna reach out and touch the sky.

I willed myself up through the trees, now ascending into the open air. I could feel the sun's rays on my skin, and the breeze through my long, blonde hair. And then, something happened in my mind: All the fear and restlessness I'd been feeling the past 24 hours? It was all completely washed away. In its place was this joy and whimsy, almost childish in nature. But then, who could blame me, especially when this is what every child, at some point, imagined doing.

"Holy crap, I'm flying...!" I said, all the while a smile stretched across my face, and I was laughing. "I'm FLYING!"

With that, I shot up into the sky like a bullet, up into the clouds. I giggled like a child as I ran my fingertips through them, sailing through the sky above Star Lake. I didn't even care if I ended up getting spotted doing this by bird-watchers or something. I was just having too much fun, and plus, what were they gonna do? Post it online? People would say it was fake, and who could blame them? I was so lost in the joy of what I was doing, I started doing loop de loops around the clouds, testing the limits of my newfound aerial acrobatics. Suffice to say, they were working out pretty well.

Finally, after a few minutes, I touched down onto a rooftop downtown, still feeling a rush from the whole experience. In fact, I was feeling ready for another go, and I was about to do it, too. Before I could, though, I heard the sound of glass breaking below. Peering down over the edge of the roof, I quickly spotted the source: A convenience store with its front window smashed apart. I squinted my eyes, managing to spot a pair of men inside with guns. They were holding up the man at the cash register.

_Don't do it,_  I thought, gulping hard.  _Just turn around and walk away. This isn't your fight. You don't have to risk your life fighting thugs with guns. You're NOT a superhero._

In what felt like forever, but was really a couple of seconds, I could hear those words echo in my head, over and over. 'You're not a superhero'. All the while, though, my fist was clenched in my pocket, holding the make-shift mask I'd made. Seeing and hearing one of the crooks fire a warning shot, I made up my mind. I pulled out the bandanna and put it on, tying it on tight. Then I jumped over the street and landed on the sidewalk in front of the store, which wasn't hard since I could control my motion through the air. Now, later, I would figure out that the best way to handle this kind of scenario would be to phase through the roof and take them both by surprise, disarming them and tying them up for the police. But, this was my first time, so...well, we kinda have to forgive some decisions I made due to lack of experience.

"Leave him alone!" I yelled as I entered through the front door, standing there with my hands on my hips as they looked at me like I was crazy.

_Oh, yeah, you look REALLY intimidating like that, you idiot,_  I thought to myself, trying not to let the crooks see me sweat.  _You're wearing a freaking plaid mini-skirt! This is like the start of a really bad porno movie!_

"...Kid, go home!" one of the crooks, the dark haired one of the two, shouted, looking more annoyed than anything.

"I said, leave him alone!" I insisted, taking two steps forward.

"You got a death wish or something, blondie?!" the crook yelled, pointing his gun at me.

"Whoa, hey, take it easy, will ya?!" the other crook, a redhead, reasoned. "She's just a kid! Let ME deal with this!" The first crook groaned, retraining his gun on the man at the cash register, as the redhead walked up to me, keeping his gun aimed away. "...Look, kid, I dunno what you think you're doing here, but these? They ain't toys, alright? Now, I don't wanna be the guy that aims a gun at a teenager, okay? I got a kid your age back at home. So, how about this: You walk outta here, and we forget this ever happened, and nobody has to get hurt. Sound good?"

I bit my lip a little, making myself seem vulnerable as I stammered "...Well, I-I mean, I'd like to, but there's a problem with that."

"What's tha-" the redhead tried to ask before I made my right hand a lot more solid and gave him a good slap across the face, not hard enough to do severe damage, but enough to send him on his ass and his gun tumbling away.

"You're already hurt," I answered, smirking a little at my line as I turned my hand back to normal.

I guess at that point, the one still pointing his gun at the man at the cash register had decided I'd made my choice. He aimed the gun at me and took his shot. Lucky for me, bullets aren't exactly as scary as they are for others when you can turn intangible. Which is what I did, letting the bullet pass harmlessly right through me. Problem was, I think I kinda forgot that the glass door was right behind me, and honest to God, I wish I could look back and see my face when I realized what had happened, the sound of the door shattering behind me.

"...Whoops," I muttered, eyes wide at what I'd just allowed to happen.

The gunman was shocked, but fired again, the bullet aimed right for my head. This time, I solidified myself as hard as I could. The bullet ended up crumpling against my skull before falling to the floor. It stung a little bit, but otherwise, it didn't cause any substantial pain. Now the guy was getting the message: His gun was absolutely worthless against me.

"S-She's some kinda freak!" he yelled.

"I'm not a freak," I said, walking forward as the thug backed up a little. "I'm just your regular teenage girl who's sick to death of bullies."

"Stay away from me!" the crook ordered, aiming his gun back at the man behind the register. "I'll kill him! I swear to God!"

That got me to stop. I don't know if he was serious or not about killing him. But I do know that I wasn't willing to risk it. Fortunately, as I looked the scene over, I realized there was another option...just that it was probably gonna hurt like hell. So, I turned my whole body intangible, sinking down through the floor, before sailing back up, turning my right hand solid again, and giving the gunman a punch to the jaw. He was out cold before he hit the floor. And, for the record, no, I could not resist yelling out "Shoryuken!" as I uppercut the guy. Also, yes, it DID hurt pretty bad doing that. Not only was my wrist cramping something fierce from the multiple changes to my body at once, but I had just punched a guy while my hand was in its ordinary state, and I was most definitely not used to punching people before all of this started.

"Ow, ow, ow, bad idea, stupid idea..." I whined, clutching my wrist, before I heard sirens in the distance. I looked at the man running the register, who looked absolutely stunned by all of this. "Oh crap. Um, gotta go, glad you're okay, sorry about the door!"

With that, I turned and ran through the back wall of the store, coming out into an alley, and sprinted through it. I even phased through a couple more buildings just to put as much distance as I could between me and the store before I finally took off into the sky. I sighed hard, trying to get myself to relax. Still, my mind was more focused on the terror of what had just happened, what COULD have happened, and then ultimately, what I'd just done. I'd just saved some poor guy's life, as well as the money in the cash register. And, as scary as it all was, looking at it like that, I realized something: It felt really, REALLY good doing all of that. And as I felt the breeze run across my face, I had only one thing I could say.

"Okay, THAT was awesome!" I exclaimed.

I eventually decided to fly back to school. Lunch break was almost over by the time I got back. Taking my mask off, I headed immediately for the tree Olette and I usually hang out at. There she was, looking a little worried and impatient, and then, when she caught sight of me jogging up to her, relieved and agitated.

"There you are!" O exclaimed as I came to stop right in front of her, bent over a little as I was trying to catch my breath. "Where have you been?! I was worried sick about-"

"I want a costume," I said between breaths, causing Olette to stop as she took in everything I was saying. "I flew, I stopped some crooks from stealing from a store, and...and it was freaking awesome, and I want a costume."

Olette's eyes widened, her face starting to form into a smile. "...You want a costume?"

I nodded, smiling back up at her through my messy blonde hair. "...I want a costume. I wanna be a superhero."

At that point, I was sure that, if we weren't in public, O would've tackle-hugged me to the ground right then and there and showered me with kisses. There MIGHT have even been some groping involved, I don't know. Instead, she leaned forward, ran her fingers through my hair, and said "...Okay. Let's talk to Scotty."


	5. Chapter 5

An hour after school was over, Olette and I were standing in the hall of an apartment building. I'd sent my dad a text message, letting him know we were gonna be hanging out after school, and then we headed over here to meet up with Olette's friend, Scotty. I was more than a little nervous meeting this guy for the first time, but based on everything O had told me, he was a nice guy and a great costume designer. And, considering I'd seen some of the costumes he'd made, both for Olette's cosplays and for some of the school's plays last year, I could tell she was right.

Still, despite all that, I found myself fidgeting with my tie as we waited in the hall, O having knocked on Scotty's door. It wasn't a very long wait, though. Within half a minute, the door opened, revealing an 18 year old boy with dark skin and short, frizzy blond hair, wearing glasses and an apron over his clothes. The apron had a number of pockets, containing spools of thread and needles, as well as a number of other tools used for sewing clothes. I guess we'd either caught him in the middle of working on something, or he was preparing for our arrival, Olette having called him ahead of time to let him know we were on our way.

Scotty looked pretty excited to see us. Well, okay, I should call a spade a spade: He looked excited to see ME. That was my first hint that Olette might have told him a little bit more about our situation than I was completely comfortable with letting out at the time. Still, I kept quiet...for the moment, anyway.

"Hey Scotty," Olette greeted. "Can we come in?"

"Abso-freakin'-lutely!" Scotty declared, grabbing the two of us by the hands and hauling us into his apartment, all the while I couldn't help but yelp. "Oh man, you have NO idea how awesome this is, and your timing couldn't be any more perfect! My parents are in New York, and I've got the apartment to myself for a few days!"

I gotta imagine I looked extremely uncomfortable as I tried pulling my hand away and crying "Yeah, hands OFF, okay?!" Unfortunately, I maybe kinda let my powers take over at that point, and instead of simply yanking my hand free like normal, my hand turned intangible and phased out from his. I blushed hard, realizing what I'd done. Scotty, meanwhile...well, if his eyes had gotten any wider at that point, they would've imploded.

"Oh my God, it's really TRUE!" Scotty exclaimed. "You really DO have superpow-"

"Yeah, yeah, Scotty, focus please?" Olette demanded. "And dial down the freaky for my girlfriend?"

I gave Olette a dirty look. There was no doubt about it now: She'd told Scotty EVERYTHING. That, combined with the fact that this guy was clearly a bit socially awkward, and was every bit into superheroes as Olette, meant it was becoming all too clear why he was behaving in such a manner. Later on, I found out that he was diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome, meaning he was on the spectrum. That actually explained a bit more to me, since, I don't know if you know this or not, but people with Asperger's are generally not only a bit socially awkward and have trouble focusing, but are pretty much oozing with creativity. I know this because I was tested for it myself in my early teens.

Scotty sighed hard, giving himself a few light slaps as he turned and headed into what I assumed was a spare bedroom that had been converted into his workshop. "Right, right, sorry. Anyway, you said you needed a costume?"

"If Cassie's gonna be flying around beating up crooks, then yes, she's gonna need a disguise and an alias to go by," Olette replied.

"Okay, well, I'm gonna need to take your measurements then," Scotty said casually, going to his work bench to grab his measuring tape. "Better get outta your uniform."

"...Um, excuse me?" I inquired, sweat-dropping.

Scotty rolled his eyes. "Oh, please, it's okay. I see girls in their underwear all the time." I couldn't help but look disgusted for a moment before Scotty facepalmed. "To take their measurements! Hello?! What part of my job did you not get?!"

"It's okay, sweetie," Olette assured me, holding my hand and giving it a little rub. "I've done this before, and I can assure you, Scotty's a real professional about this."

I took a deep breath, letting myself calm down. "...Okay. Let's just get this over with, please." Scotty nodded, getting his stuff ready as I turned to face O. "...I don't suppose you're gonna turn away, are you?"

"After yesterday?" O asked, giving a flirty wink. "Not a chance."

"You owe me big," I replied, removing my tie.

Olette had nothing to say to that, and instead took a seat. I think part of her took pleasure in the idea of her owing me. Olette, for as sweet and kind as she is, has a bit of a deviant side to her, and I don't just mean her Deviant Art profile. For someone who was all too happy maintaining her virginity until she was an adult, she was kind of a pervert, and she'd probably be the first to admit it. So, she just stood there and watched me get out of my uniform. I could've just phased out of it, but I hadn't quite figured out how to phase certain clothes off while keeping others on, and I don't care how trustworthy a person is, if they aren't a doctor, I'm not getting butt naked in front of them on the first meeting.

So, a few minutes later, I was standing in a stranger's apartment and stripped down to my underwear, with said stranger looking my body over, all while my girlfriend watched. Once again, my life had taken me into a situation that felt like a porno movie. Thankfully, Olette had been completely right in that Scotty was very dedicated to his work and didn't take perverse enjoyment out of this. There wasn't even the slightest hint of a blush as he was knelt down and running his measuring tape around my...erm, more private areas. In fact, if I can be 100% honest, it was actually a little bit dismaying that he was so unaffected by the sight of me in such a state. Not that I wanted him to drool over me or anything like that, but a TINY blush would've been appreciated. Thankfully, Olette was there to compensate for his lack of enjoyment in the situation, if you know what I mean.

"Okay, I think I got 'em all," Scotty said after a while, putting his measuring tape away and taking a seat at his deck. "So, any kinda preferences for your costume?"

I thought about it while getting my uniform back on. "I dunno...I guess maybe something in purple? I really like purple."

"Noticed," Scotty replied with a smirk, leading me to realize I'd worn purple undergarments today. "I'm thinking maybe purple and black, with a small splash of yellow to match your hair."

My mouth was agape at this. "...Those are my favourite colours."

Scotty grinned, getting out a sketchbook. "I'm pretty good at guessing the colours people prefer. It helps in designing costumes for them."

"Told you he was good," Olette pointed out. "I'm thinking a mask might be a good idea. Nothing too big, though, just enough to hide her identity."

"Of course," Scotty said with a nod, making a quick sketch. "And hey, you can make your clothes intangible too, so why not a cape?"

"Also, something feminine, but not...well, revealing?" I suggested as I finished getting dressed. "And something that says 'Sweet girl trying to help' but also says 'Criminals beware she who can slip through Star Lake!'."

Scotty nodded, giving the occasional small "Mmm-hmm" to what was said. This went on for a good half an hour or so as the three of us bounced ideas off of each other, until finally, Scotty finished. He laid the sketch out on the table, and took out some coloured pencils to leave small splashes of colour here and there to show what was supposed to be coloured what on the costume. It was a purple and black top with a yellow star emblem on the chest, a purple skirt with black leggings that ran under it, a pair of black gloves, purple boots, a black eye mask, and a purple cape that was somewhere between medium length to long.

Now it was my turn to be wide-eyed and in awe of what I saw. "Oh my God, I LOVE it! I can't wait to try it on!"

"You are gonna look GREAT in that!" Olette exclaimed, smiling ear to ear.

Eventually, Scotty needed to get to work on the costume, so we excused ourselves and headed off. As we left the building, though, Olette took hold of my hand and smirked. She led me around to an alley behind the building instead of to the nearest bus stop, like we were planning to do to take home. Once there, I just looked around awkwardly, trying to piece together what was happening.

"...Why are we back here?" I asked. "Did you get too hot under the collar from earlier or something?"

"No, but we're DEFINITELY gonna be doing something we shouldn't," Olette answered with a devious smirk.

I blushed hard. "Uhhh..."

"So, I've been thinking about how you're able to keep your clothes on while phasing," Olette explained. "Finally, after a while, I realized that it must mean that you can choose to alter anything you're in direct contact with, whether you know it or not."

I shrugged, still a little confused. "I guess that makes sense. So, why-"

"So, then I figured, if that's the case, is it possible that you could alter a person you're in direct contact with?" O went on, closing the distance between us. "Like, if someone was being shot at, could you grab them and turn them solid enough to where the bullets wouldn't hurt them? Or, if you needed to get them out of a building, could you turn the both of you intangible and lead them out?"

At this point, the lightbulb finally went off in my head, getting where Olette was going with this. "...You wanna fly, don't you?"

Olette blushed, curling her brunette locks around her finger in that way she always does when she's most nervous. "...Please? It's been my dream since I was a little girl."

I sighed hard. I knew there were about a hundred different things that could go wrong with this, but I also knew that, beyond any of the other weaknesses I had, the biggest one I had was always going to be that I could not say no to this girl. So, I reached out and held her close, lifting her up into my arms bridal style, and let myself lift off. Sure enough, just like she suggested, she turned lighter along with me, and stayed in the safety of my arms, though she kept her arms locked around my neck.

"...Have I mentioned lately how much I adore you?" O asked, eyes darting around as if to take in every single thing that we drifted past.

I giggled, taking us up and away. "You'd say that to anyone who could fly you around town."

"Nuh-uh," Olette insisted, looking me in my eyes. "I...I don't know if there are any other people out there who can do what you do. I don't know if we'll ever find out if that's the case...but there's only one you."

I smiled as wide as possible. After this, I went on a lot of flights through the skies of Star Lake, but none of them, not one, felt as good as this one. The wind was just right, the temperature was just right, the skies were as clear as one could ask for, but most importantly, seeing Olette take everything in as we flew gently along the clouds made it all the more perfect. Just the glee and wonder on her face as we flew made it all perfect. The only way you could make it any better was if you played Faithfully by Journey over the whole ordeal... ... ...What? I like that song, leave me alone.

Anyway, eventually we made our way back to my house, touching down close by, but still far enough away that we wouldn't be noticed. Then we walked over and into the house. It only took a few seconds to realize that Dad wasn't home, which I took to mean he was still on his ride-along.

"Well, looks like this is really happening," Olette noted with a smile. "You're really gonna be a superhero."

I smiled back. "Well, I might not get started right away. Might wait until the next school break before I really-"

Before I could finish, the phone rang. I looked at the caller ID, and my blood ran cold: It was the Star Lake Regional Hospital. I didn't know why they would be calling my house, but I knew it couldn't possibly be good news. Despite that dread, I picked up the receiver, holding it to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Hello, is this the Doyle residence?" a woman on the other side of the call inquired.

"Yeah, this is Cassie Doyle," I answered, getting an inquisitive look from Olette.

"Is your father Kenneth Doyle?" the woman asked, causing my throat to go dry.

"...Yes, that's my dad," I replied.

"Cassie," the woman responded, a slightly sympathetic tinge in her voice as she said the words that turned my world upside for what had to be at least the third or fourth time in a little less than two days, "I'm afraid your father and his friend are both in the E.R...There's been an explosion."


	6. Chapter 6

For obvious reasons, everything I'm about to tell you about now, it's all stuff that I wasn't there for. So, just letting you know, this is all second-hand information. But, considering who I got the information from...well, I trust it's the truth as much as I would if I was there to see and hear it all myself.

It was a little after 1 PM. My dad and Mack were heading across town to talk to a contact of theirs who had information on Tammy Alfonso. Like I said before, Alfonso, or Fonzie as a lot of people knew her, was one of the worst mobsters in the city. She was notorious for being impossible to nail down to a crime, and Dad and Mack had been pursuing just that for years. Well, apparently, she and her men were getting a little too loud as of late, planning something big, and Dad's contact was scared, so they wanted to speak with the two of them. So, they were on their way there, Dad tapping his finger absentmindedly on the dashboard of the car...right after taking a short stop at a convenience store where a break-in had occurred so that Mack could take some questions.

"Look, I get you're excited, but if you tap any harder, you're gonna put a hole in my dashboard, y'hear?" Mack tried to say casually.

"Sorry, Mack..." Dad apologized. "Just, we're finally gonna bring that scum in."

"If we're lucky," Mack replied before sighing. "...Listen, about what happened back at that store."

Dad cocked an eyebrow. "What about it?"

"Apparently, a couple of crooks attempted to rob the place," Mack answered as they came to a red light, stopping for it. "One of them was knocked out, and the other was babbling about a girl that could walk through walls and stop bullets."

My dad scoffed. "Uh-huh. What'd the toxicity levels tell you?"

"That's the thing: They came back clean," Matthews explained. "No sign of drugs or alcohol on 'em. Also, the guy working the cash register backed up their story, as did their bullets." Dad glanced at Mack oddly, to which he went on, "Well, the bullets were squished like they'd been turned into play doh. Apparently, one of them actually shot through her body and broke the glass in the door, without even leaving a scratch on her."

"Did you get any details on the girl?" Dad asked, leading to Mack fidgeting a little. "...Mack?"

Mack nodded slowly, driving ahead as the light changed to green. "...Yeah. Kept those to myself. Ken, they said it was a blonde teenager in a school uniform. The description of the uniform was perfect match for the ones worn by students at Maria J. Hanson Memorial, and the girl...It was Cassie. No doubt about it."

My dad's face paled. "...But that's not-"

"Then I thought about that thing that happened yesterday at school," Mack went on, just as the pieces started to come together in Dad's mind. "And THEN, I remembered what you told me about her mom. Now, I know you don't wanna hear this, but-"

"My daughter is not a monster, Matthews!" my dad yelled angrily. Apparently, he's only ever called Mack by his last name when he was really angry at him. This was one of those times, I guess. And yeah, he mentioned my mom. We'll get back to that later. For now, though...

"Whoa, hey, I'm not saying she's a monster, I'm just saying, what if she's...different, I guess?!" Mack defended. "Look, I know this is all hard to hear, but you know you've quoted Sherlock Holmes on this before: 'Once you eliminate the impossible'-"

Dad held a hand to his head, trying desperately to calm himself. "'Whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth'. I know. I just...I have no idea what to do about this..."

"Talking to Cassie sounds like a good start," Mack pointed out.

"Oh, that'll go great," my dad grumbled, rubbing his temples. "'Cassie? Have you been developing superpowers and breaking up robberies? If so, you owe that poor store owner a new door, which I'm taking out of your allowance'."

Mack shrugged. "Works for me."

"Like I'm gonna take the advice of a man who doesn't have kids," Dad growled. "...Sorry. I don't mean to lash out. I know you've been there for me to help with Cassie whenever I needed you, but there's a difference between a friend of the family who pops in every so often and a father."

"I know, Kenny," Mack replied, pulling the car to the side of the road. "Well, better save figuring out what you're gonna say to her for later. We're here."

Dad nodded, unbuckling his seat belt as the car came to a stop. "...Mack. I know you said you kept the details to yourself, but-"

"My lips are completely sealed until you say otherwise, my friend," Mack said, giving Dad a thumbs up. "I owe you that much after all these years. I can't even count the number of times you've saved my butt."

Dad nodded, the two getting out of the car. "I probably could."

"Please don't," Mack all but begged. "I just KNOW the actual answer would be embarrassingly high."

Dad let himself chuckle a little, despite the bombshell dropped on him, as they made their way to the front door of the house they'd parked in front of. It was actually home to a few of the people under suspicion of working for Alfonso, one of which was their contact. However, just as they got to the door, they noticed it was ajar. Mack took a single sniff before discretely passing Dad his spare pistol. My dad nodded, immediately understanding the situation as Mack mouthed counting to three, at which point he kicked the front door open.

Mack and Dad rushed into the house, guns trained on the halls of the building as they made their way through it. Sure enough, the scent of blood and gunpowder was all throughout the house, and a lot of the furniture was knocked around, indicating a massive fight. Finally reaching the kitchen, the two found the bodies of the house's occupants, which included their contact, a bald man in his 30s. There was also a woman they didn't recognize, a pair of revolvers laying on the floor at her sides.

"Dammit!" Mack cursed, the two holding their hands over their mouths at the overwhelming scent of the four dead bodies. "Alfonso KNEW we were watching them."

The way I understand it, the contact had called Dad sometime after I went to bed the night before. He'd said he wanted to meet around 1 PM the next day because he was about to be sent on a job for Fonzie, and he didn't wanna blow his cover by not showing. I guess the truth was that his cover was already blown, he just didn't know it. From what I've read, a dead body needs, at best, a few hours to start to smell, meaning Fonzie must've had him taken out right after he made the call.

"She's not one of them," Dad noted, pointing to the woman. "One of their assassins got unlucky?"

"Maybe," Mack replied with a groan. "I gotta get back to the radio in the car, call for CSI."

"Dammit all, this was our shot!" Dad growled as they made their way back through the house.

"Still might be," Mack suggested, exiting the front door. "If forensics can find ANYTHING to link this to Alfonso-"

"Yeah, assuming they aren't on the take, that is," Dad scoffed, waiting at the front door as Mack went to the car.

"C'mon, you know they ain't like that," Mack argued, reaching to open the door to the car. "You always think the worst thing is about to-"

Mack never got a chance to finish his sentence. As soon as he clicked open the car door, he tripped the wire that had been planted to the bottom of it, which he'd failed to notice. The wire, which was attached to the bomb planted under the car mere seconds after they'd gone into the house. The resulting explosion sent his charred body sailing several feet away, while something, Dad wasn't sure what, flew off the car and nailed Dad across the forehead, and all he knew at that point was blackness.


	7. Chapter 7

Olette and I wasted zero time getting to the hospital after that phone call. One of the benefits of being able to fly and become intangible was that I could just pass through the sewer system and come out in the hospital's general vicinity, all while Olette held on for dear life. How I managed to keep focused enough to let her come along for the whole ride is a mystery to me, as is how I was able to avoid knocking over every last doctor and nurse in the emergency wing of the hospital when we got there.

"Kenneth Doyle?!" I yelled, running up to the front desk.

"You're his daughter?" the receptionist asked, getting a nod. "I'm the one who called you at your home. Doctor Bing was just in to check on-"

"Miss Doyle?" a voice called, Olette and I turning to face a doctor as he came out of a room. "I'm Doctor Bing. I'm the one who's been tending to your father since he got here."

"How is he?" I demanded.

"Well, he's still unconscious," Doctor Bing explained, removing his glasses to clean them on his coat. "Pretty safe to say he has a concussion. All things considered, though, he's a lucky man. We might need to keep him overnight for observation, but...as far as I can tell, he'll be fine."

I let out a hard sigh of relief. My dad was gonna be alright. Yeah, he had a concussion, but considering he was caught in the vicinity of a car-freaking-explosion, that was pretty much the best news I could've asked for. Except, as I quickly started to remember, he wasn't the only one caught in the blast, and the doctor seemed to be talking a lot about how lucky my dad was.

"...What about Mack?" I asked, my throat turning dry as I watched the doctor's face fall. He hesitated saying anything for a few seconds, but that hesitation was all I needed to know what happened. "...No. No, h-he can't be..."

"I'm sorry, I..." Doctor Bing said sadly, my face turning paler with each second. "He took the full brunt of the explosion. By the time the ambulance arrived, he was already gone. There was nothing we could do."

"Oh my God..." Olette whispered, holding me as I tried to keep my balance. "His family, do they know? They live outta town. Somebody needs to call-"

"It's being taken care of," Bing said quickly. "Lieutenant Benoist is here, and...he's taking care of all of that. He was hoping to talk to you when you got here."

I nodded, not quite there at the moment. I could hear Olette talking to Doctor Bing, explaining that we'd speak with Benoist as soon as we could, but it was...muffled. It wasn't until Bing left, and Olette hugged me close, whispering in my ear, that I heard her speaking clearly as she asked "...Honey? Are you alright?"

I looked her in her eyes, my skin turning a little green around the edges, as I answered honestly "...I think I need to throw up."

"Okay," Olette replied, slowly guiding me to the closest ladies' room. She went to open one of the stall doors, but I didn't wait. I just phased through it. I was already on my knees with the toilet seat up by the time she came in. In hindsight, I kind of regret having not eaten anything during lunch, meaning the only thing from that day that was in my stomach were some pancakes I'd eaten for breakfast. Suffice to say, it made what I had to do while I was on my knees, hands planted on the sides of the toilet, and Olette's hands rubbing my back, a little harder than it could've been if I'd remembered to have lunch.

After a couple of minutes, once I was absolutely sure I was done, I flushed the toilet. I didn't get up, though. I just sat there on the floor, Olette holding me. "Have I mentioned how much I adore you lately?", she'd asked me earlier. I was contemplating saying the same thing. She didn't care that I smelled like vomit. She didn't care that I looked like hell. She was going to stay there with me and let me ride this out. I just clung to her tightly and buried my face in her chest, sobbing and shaking, for what felt like an hour, but I later found out was maybe 10 minutes.

From there, we went out of the ladies' room, and we talked to Lieutenant Benoist. He told us about how Mack and my dad had gone to go check on the informant giving info on Alfonso, and about the car bomb. My dad would later fill in the details. I just remember my fist clenching so hard, and it was hardening the whole time he was talking about how the two had been set up. Olette did most of the talking for me, though. I just stood there and took it all in. When he was done talking, I needed some air, so Olette took me outside, and we sat on a bench.

"I can't believe this..." I whispered, tears falling from my eyes.

"I'm so sorry, baby," Olette said, holding my hand.

"Mack was one of my dad's best friends," I whimpered. "He was practically like an uncle to me. And now, he's...I just SAW him yesterday. He was...he was combing his hair, getting it perfect in the mirror like an idiot."

Olette held me close, stroking my hair softly and rocking me gently. "It's alright, sweetie. You can just let it out..."

I just kept clenching my fists and shaking my head. "No. Not like this. Not with tears...Someone murdered Mack, and almost killed my dad too. Mack...the last time I saw him, he said 'Sometimes, things just happen, and you can't explain it'. Well I can damned sure explain this: Some...some coward killed him for doing his job."

"...Cass, I know what you're thinking," O whispered. "It's the same thing I'd be thinking. But...you know that revenge won't make it better."

"I know," I moaned, finally relaxing my hands a little, "but this city isn't safe. Convenience store robberies, gang shoot-outs, and car bombings, all in broad daylight? And at night, it's even worse. Drug and arms dealers, and girls our age being forced to do God knows what?"

"It's a shit town, no doubt," Olette admitted with a nod.

"Well, I'm sick of it," I said, wiping my tears. "All this time, I've just been told to accept it for what it is, and I'm tired of it. Someone's gotta actually DO something about it."

Olette sighed, looking up at the sky. "...I know. To be honest...I just wish it didn't have to be you." I just looked at her, shocked to hear that after how gung ho she was about it earlier. "I know I was super excited and, I'll admit, even a little turned on by the idea of you in a cape and costume and fighting crime. But now...I'm scared."

My lip trembled, pulling Olette in close and kissing her softly as I now had to be the comforter and not the comforted. "It's gotta be someone. Might as well be the one who's bulletproof."

We stayed out there for a few minutes before heading back in. By that time, the receptionist told me that my dad was awake enough to where I could go in and see him. Olette decided to stay in the waiting room this time. I guess she decided this was a conversation for just me and my dad, and I suppose she was right. So I slowly entered the room he was staying in, giving him a sad smile as he looked at me through his daze, his forehead wrapped in bandages.

"...Hi Daddy," I whispered.

"Hey baby," Dad groaned, trying to sit up a little more. "How are you holding up?"

I smiled a bit wider, more genuinely at that question. Of COURSE my dad would ask me that, despite the fact that HE was the one currently laid out in a hospital bed. I walked over and sat down in a chair next to his bed, holding his hand. We didn't say anything for a little while, until finally, he could take no more. There was a question he wanted, no, needed to ask, despite the fact that he probably knew the answer already.

"Cassie," Dad muttered, looking me in the eye. "The doctors wouldn't tell me about Mack. Tell me the truth...He's dead, isn't he?" There was nothing I could say. I just kept holding my hand, biting my lip slightly, inciting a deep sigh from the old detective. "...That's what I thought...Dammit, Mack. That's not how you were supposed to go out. Not to some coward with a bomb."

"I'm sorry, Daddy," I whimpered, trying to keep myself from crying again.

My dad must've recognized this, because he managed to reach an arm up and pull me into a hug. "I'm sorry too, hon. I know he was like your uncle."

"He was your best friend first," I reminded Dad, before he finally released me, though he did keep a hand on mine.

"Honey, there's something we...we need to talk about," Dad moaned. "Before we got to that house...we stopped by a convenience store. Heard a crazy story about a blonde, teenage girl in a schoolgirl outfit who could walk through walls and stop bullets, and who stopped an armed robbery."

My skin paled, realizing what a terrible mistake I'd made going in with just a mask to protect my face. "Does anyone else know?"

Dad gave his head a small shake. "Just me. Mack didn't tell a soul...and now, it looks like he took that particular secret to his grave."

My lip trembled. "Dad, I...I swear, I don't know where the hell-"

"I do," my dad interjected, surprising me all over again. "I know where it comes from, and...and it's time. It's time you knew the truth, about why your mom ran out on us."

"...W-What does Mom have to do with-" I started to ask, right before realization hit me like the world's biggest sack of bricks.

"She came home one night, after she'd been gone for a few days," Dad explained. "I think she was just coming to check on you. I wasn't sure how she got in without me hearing, but there she was, in your doorway. You were asleep at the time. I was so...I don't know. Upset? Angry? Concerned? Why would she run out without a word? It wasn't like her."

I nodded, taking in everything Dad was saying as he went on. "And then...then she showed me. Her hand could move through the kitchen table. She didn't know what she was, only that she'd found herself in the wrong place at the wrong time, in the middle of a gunfight between Alfonso and her boys and a rival gang. She tried helping people get out of the line of fire, only to get caught in it herself, when suddenly, bullets were just whizzing through her and not leaving a mark on her."

"...Sh-She had powers?" I asked. "Like mine?"

Dad nodded. "Fonzie saw her using them. In fact, at one point, because a bullet phased through her, one of Fonzie's top guys, someone she was actually romantically affiliated with, was shot in the head. Dead before he hit the ground."

I ran a hand through my hair, trying to process all of this. "So...So she ran away to protect us?"

"Your mother was sure that if Fonzie or her boys ever caught sight of her again, they'd track her down to where she lived," Dad continued to explain. "On top of that...well, she was scared. Scared of what was happening to her, that she was a monster, and that someone might come for her one day. So, she left, and wouldn't tell me where, and told me not to tell you until you were old enough to understand what happened."

"...Wow," I whispered, my eyes starting to well up. "I mean, I know you always said she had a good reason, but I had no idea-"

"I guess it only figures you'd get that from her," Dad muttered, smiling sadly. "You got so much else from her. Her beauty, her grace...and, as it turns out, you're a reckless brat who goes running in to help people without thinking about it much, which I guess is a lot like the both of us."

I stared down at the floor as tears ran down my face, thinking everything over. "Mom...I wish I knew where she is now. Maybe she'd know more about what's happening to me."

"If you want my honest opinion...I still think she made a mistake," Dad admitted. "I understood, and I wasn't willing to argue it, but the truth is, I wished she'd have stayed, and I still do. She could've gone into witness protection. We could've come up with some kind of plan, ANY plan that didn't involve her running out." At that point, Dad just stared at me, more serious than I'd ever seen him in his life. "Cassie, I know you might be scared with everything going on, but please, don't run away. If not for me, then for Olette. She needs you."

I nodded shakily, grasping Dad's hands in mine. "I promise. I'll stay."

Dad gently pulled my hands closer and kissed the back of my left hand. "Tell me something, and be honest...You're still planning to go out there, aren't you? Using those powers to deal with criminals?"

Once again, I didn't wanna say anything, but both knew the answer, so I said it anyway. "Yes. Especially after today. I'm so sorry, Daddy, but I can't just let this continue. Not after Mack, and not after you. And now that I know, I think I have to do it for Mom's sake, too."

Dad sighed hard. "Yeah. I figured you'd say that. Like I said, you wanna help people, no matter the cost to yourself, just like I was at your age, and just like your mom. Except we're not just talking about being a private investigator."

"Y'know, for the past couple of days, I've been thinking a lot," I admitted, regaining control of myself. "When I got my powers, I knew I was something else. Now, part of me feels like this won't work unless I become someONE else, and I guess I've been struggling against that."

"It won't work unless you make that side of you her own person," Dad said, surprising me yet again. "You can't be just Cassandra Doyle out there. You have to be something bigger. This won't be about just stopping crooks, it'll be about changing minds. You need to be something that will inspire the people of this city to be better, and to not let what's gone on continue."

I blinked, not expecting that at all. "...Wait, are you telling me I SHOULD-"

"I'm not telling you what you should or shouldn't do with your powers," Dad interjected, looking me in the eye. "I'm simply telling you that, if you're going to use them as some kind of...superhero? Then that's exactly what you need to be. Just remember two things, though: First, nothing you do can be about vengeance. It HAS to be justice. It has to be about making this city better. Mack would want it that way."

I nodded, understanding. "Okay. And the second?"

My dad grinned. "Whoever you are out there? As important as she'll be to Star Lake, she'll always come in a distant second to Cassie Doyle for me, and for Olette."

Despite everything that happened, I managed to smirk a little as I grabbed Dad in a tight hug. "Damned straight."


	8. Chapter 8

It was Friday afternoon, the day after Dad was sent to the hospital from the car explosion. Thank God, after everything that happened, I was allowed to take the day off from school, meaning I didn't have to deal with it on top of everything else. I was sitting alone in my room, trying to do my homework for the weekend that my teacher had e-mailed to me. The key word of that sentence, though, was TRYING, since I was maybe just a little bit distracted by Mack's death and the fact that my dad was still in the hospital. I'd talked to Mack's sister, Tasha, after getting up that morning. She and the family were still in shock, making trying to work out the details of the funeral a little hard. Probably wouldn't be for at least a week.

I'd traded texts with Scotty, having gotten his number from Olette. He was making REALLY good time, but the costume wouldn't be ready for another day or two. And even though that meant having to wait a maximum of 48 hours, I was feeling too impatient to wait. What I wanted right then and there, more than anything, was to head out once night fell and start shaking down criminals until they pointed me in the direction of Fonzie. Given that she was the top mob boss in the whole city, and, according to what Dad suggested, had her hands in everything crooked and wrong that happened in town, I figured I wouldn't have to be too picky. Anyone engaging in crime would probably do.

I will admit, though, that I maybe had a whole new motivation behind taking Fonzie down, as I looked down on my desk at a photograph of my mom and I, taken when I was two years old. I'm not a complete idiot, mind you. I knew even then that my mother wouldn't just come home the second Alfonso was behind bars. Still, I did know this much: If there was ever going to be even the slightest chance that Mom would ever come back, that we'd be a family again, this was the first step to making it happen. And after hearing what really happened from Dad, I gotta believe that part of the reason he stayed obsessed with the idea of bringing Tammy Alfonso down, even after retiring as a detective, was to bring her home.

"Hey, Cass!" I heard an all-too-familiar voice yell from outside my window, getting out of my chair and looking out it to see Olette standing out in my back yard, carrying a suitcase in one hand and her laptop in a carrying case in her other hand. "You have music playing or something?! I've been knocking on your door for like 10 minutes!"

I blushed hard. "Sorry, I was doing homework!"

O smirked. "Ah, I should've known. I thought I could smell smoke."

I sneered a little, phasing through my wall and grabbing hold of Olette. "C'mere, you!" I then dragged Olette back into my room, kissing her hard. "I'm really glad you're here."

"Yeah, sorry I'm late, but I had to grab some stuff before coming over," Olette explained, laying her suitcase on my bed.

"Yeah, speaking of, what the hell?" I asked, confused by the presence of her suitcase. "You planning on staying overnight or something?"

"While your dad isn't home?" Olette inquired, cocking an eyebrow. "Please, like my parents would ever allow that. It's hard enough to convince them to let me have sleep-overs when he IS home. I think they think he sleeps in the living room with a beer or something."

I rolled my eyes, exhaling in as exasperated a manner as possible. "My dad doesn't even touch alcohol."

"Yeah, well, good luck explaining that to my folks," Olette muttered. "Anyway, the suitcase is actually for you."

That got me intrigued. "Oh? How so?"

"Well, I know Scotty says the costume won't be ready until at LEAST sometime tomorrow," Olette explained as she began to open the suitcase, "but I also know that that's not good enough for you, so I decided to present an alternative until it was ready."

I let myself get a little excited as I heard her say this. I could go out and deal with crooks as soon as I wanted, no waiting for my costume to be ready. It was exactly what I wanted, no, NEEDED at the time...Then O opened the case up, and suddenly, part of me wanted to die. It was her magical girl-style costume that she wore at her last convention.

"...Seriously?" I asked, my eyes narrowed and my voice pretty much the definition of deadpan.

"C'mon, I checked with Scotty, and he assured me it'd fit," Olette insisted, lifting the white, black, and yellow sailor fuku-looking thing up out of the case and offering it to me. "Besides, it's just a temp costume."

"You just wanna see me dressed in this thing, don't you?" I accused.

Olette blushed a little, smiling mischievously. "...Kinda. Now, c'mon, try it on."

I groaned, but acquiesced, taking the costume in both hands. "Alright. Turn around."

Olette grinned victoriously, doing as I asked while I lifted the costume up. See, ever since I realized I could choose to phase with my clothes on or off, I'd decided to do a little experimenting to see if I could use that ability to quick-change my clothes. So, after letting the clothes I was wearing fall off my body and to the ground, I let O's magical girl costume flutter down and take their place on me. I gave Olette a quick tap on the shoulder to let her know it was okay to turn back around as I looked myself in the mirror. She was right, it DID fit, although I had more than a couple of issues.

"...It's a little tight around the chest," I muttered, fidgeting with the yellow bow on the front.

Olette nodded, clearly looking me over. "Yyyeah, Scotty told me that was the one major difference in our measurements."

"They aren't THAT big!" I barked, blushing hard as I glared at her using the reflection of my mirror.

"I've seen them up close, and I can personally attest to them being bigger than mine," Olette reminded me.

"Yeah, you were supposed to forget that happened..." I insisted, smoothing out the black and yellow skirt. "Wait a minute...there're no leggings to this."

"Hang on," Olette replied, reaching back into the case and offering me some white leggings and a pair of knee-high black boots.

I sighed, taking a seat on my bed and pulling the leggings and boots on. "You are doing this just to embarrass me."

"Well, you don't HAVE to go out tonight," Olette pointed out, arms folded and smiling practically ear-to-ear. "You could wait til Scotty's done."

I grumbled a little, knowing Olette was playing off of my more rash and impulsive side, but not wanting to give her the satisfaction of being right, I reached into the case and pulled out a pair of long white gloves. I looked myself over in the mirror again as I finished putting the gloves on. I'll admit, I guess I looked alright, but there were a couple of things missing in my mind. First off, I needed a mask. I reached into my school uniform's pocket and pulled out my mask from the day before. Then, I went into my closet and pulled out the thin, sleeveless, hooded robe that I'd cut the mask from, tying it to me with the hood down, basically making it a make-shift cape.

"Looks good," Olette said with a thumbs up. "But there's one last thing."

"A 'Kick Me' sign?" I asked.

Olette giggled, handing me my cell phone. "There are hidden pockets in the skirt. Keep your cell on you, and I can keep you updated on crimes occurring in town."

"How are you gonna do that?" I wondered aloud, putting my cell in one of the hidden pockets. "Did you hack into all the cameras in town?"

"No, that'd be WAY out of my league to pull off, and would be a major invasion of privacy," O retorted, opening up her laptop. "I'm just part of a Facebook group that has access to a police scanner, and have friends who are part of a neighbourhood watch program."

My shoulders slumped. "...Because using a police scanner to listen in on their radio calls is totally ethical."

"Is vigilante justice?" Olette countered with a smirk. "Now hurry up and save the day, Starslip."

I blinked, confused. "...'Starslip'?"

"I thought about what you said yesterday," Olette explained, signing onto Facebook. "Y'know, 'Criminals beware she who can slip through Star Lake!'. Plus, you told me about that dream you had, where you slipped through a star-"

"Right, got it," I cut in, pinching the bridge of my nose. "God, that was cheesy."

"I thought it sounded cool," O admitted with a shrug. "Anyway, better go, but one last thing."

"What's that?" I asked, just before Olette grabbed hold of me by the collar and hauled me in close, promptly laying on the deepest, hardest lip lock I'd ever been on the receiving end of.

"...Be careful out there," Olette whispered as she broke away, her more vulnerable side coming out.

I nodded, smiling like an idiot, before I phased through the floor and flew through the ground. Then, once I was sure I was a fair distance out, I came up through the earth and sailed into the sky. It didn't take long for me to get a text on my cell: 'FIRE ON BINDER AND PLASTINO. ARSON SUSPECTED'. I knew more or less where that was, and one look over to the north-west side of town told me I was headed in the right direction, as smoke started to rise up into the sky.

Lemme explain Star Lake for a second. See, like I said before, the city is named that because it's built around a lake that looks like a star. I live in the eastern-most side of the city. Originally, it was just five separate towns and villages, but people worked to bring it together as one big city, connected by multiple bridges. There's even been talk about making an artificial island in the center of the lake, to make an actual central hub for the city.

Anyway, getting back to the point, I saw smoke rising from the north-west side, and took off like a bullet toward the source. Pretty soon, I found it: A small apartment building. Fire trucks had arrived on the scene, but they didn't seem to be putting the fire out at all. In fact, it looked like it was getting worse. I knew I should've tried looking for the one who set it ablaze, let the fire department deal with the building, but I couldn't. Especially when I noticed the woman standing on a nearby sidewalk, screaming at one of the firefighters. Floating down onto a nearby roof, I listened in, and while I couldn't make out everything she said, I distinctly heard her say the word "Husband" over and over again.

I couldn't help but sigh, really frigging hard. This was the part where I REALLY wished I could grab a giant dish or something, fill it with water, and just dunk it on the building, putting it out instantly. But, wouldn't you know it, whatever powers that be that decided I should have superpowers forgot to include super strength. And no massive, conveniently placed water towers nearby. Which meant doing this the hard way. And of course I was going to. Possible arsonist be damned, same as the whole point I got in costume and came out here. THIS was the reason I was here now.

"...Tally-freaking-ho...!" I muttered as I leaped up into the air and phased into the building, keeping myself intangible to avoid catching on fire myself. Lucky for me, that wasn't too hard, given my body's newfound issues with heat. "Hello?! Is there anyone here?!"

Even though the smoke was passing through my lungs much more easily than if I'd just been breathing normally, it was going by so quickly that it didn't have time to really affect them at all. Another useful feature in being what I am, I guess, even if I DID keep my mouth covered out of instinct. Anyway, not having to worry about that, I was able to pass through the building quickly and easily enough that I found the husband. He was trapped in what I assumed was his bedroom, huddled in a corner away from the flames. He couldn't get to the window because there was a fire blocking his way.

_Okay, how do I do this?_  I wondered.  _Turn solid, grab him, and then fly out? No, I could wind up catching my costume on fire. Or, I could wind up turning myself solid while there's some smoke floating through me, pass out, and then I wouldn't be any help to anyone. If I could just put out that fire by his window, then the firefighters could get in here and-_

And that's when the idea hit me. Of course, doing this meant making myself VERY public, but I couldn't think of any other way to deal with this. So, I flew out the wall of his room and shoot down toward one of the firefighters, all the while I'm sure everyone in the area and their dog were standing in shock at the amazing flying girl who could move through walls.

"I need to borrow this!" I yelled, turning solid and grabbing one of the very long water hoses.

"I...wha-" the poor fireman tried to say as I took the hose.

"Sorry, trying to save a guy!" I cried as I took off back toward the window.

Once I was at the window, I opened it up and took careful aim at the fire. Thing is, I think I may have misjudged the pressure of the hose. First off, it almost sent me flying backwards, it shot so hard. And second, I almost hit the poor guy I was trying to save, just narrowly avoiding him through sheer luck. Good news was, I put the fire blocking the way to the window out, and doused a little bit of fire down the hall while I was at it. Even better news was that the firefighters had figured out what I was trying to do, and were setting up a ladder by the window. I stayed there to keep an eye on things, but it didn't take long for them to come in, get the guy, and get out.

"Is there anyone else still in there?" I asked, floating down to meet with the people as the man joined them.

"No, we're all out," the man's wife replied between sobs as she held him. "Thank you. Thank you so much!" I smiled, turning to leave, when she said "Who are you, anyway?"

"I'm...Starslip," I replied, a little hesitant at first. The name still sounded dumb in my head, but then, when the name came out of my mouth, it felt right.

After that, I flew off, taking a quick look around the immediate area for anyone who looked suspicious. Nothing. Either it was an accident, or the person who set the building on fire got away. After about fifteen minutes of looking, my cellphone was ringing. I checked the caller ID. It was Olette calling me. I touched down onto a rooftop before answering.

"Hey!" I answered, letting myself sit down on the ledge.

"So, the firefighters have got the burning building under control," O explained. "Also, something about a blonde girl in a skirt saving one of the tenants?"

I smiled sadly. "Arsonist got away, though. Assuming there actually was one."

"Well, this was more important," Olette assured me. "You did the right thing, saving that guy. Oh, and I heard that the name apparently stuck with you after all."

I laid back onto the ledge, looking up at the clouds passing overhead. "...Yeah. Yeah, I think it will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is actually a bit of a reference to the original story I'd written as told by Starslip's point of view, specifically her costume and the fact that she's saving people from a burning building. Felt like making a callback to that, even if I was the only person who'd get it. lol


	9. Chapter 9

I sighed pretty hard, looking down at the streets as I flew overhead in my temporary costume. It was DEFINITELY a good call on Scotty's part to add leggings under the skirt, and I was glad my official one would have them too. At least five times in that first day out on the job, I'd managed to catch perverts trying to get up-skirt shots of me. I would've been far angrier about that if I didn't find it so sad. Also, if I'm being perfectly honest with myself, if it were Olette flying around with me on the ground...yeah, probably would be doing the same.

I came to a stop in mid-air as I spotted some activity below: A black car speeding along Main Street with cops having some trouble catching it. As I flew in closer, I could hear the sound of gunfire, and it became clear that the people in the car were shooting at the police cars chasing after them. I dropped down to one of the cars, making my body intangible. After a few moments, one of the guys in the car noticed me. I gave a motion for them to open the window, and found myself a little amused when they actually did so, looking half astonished and half terrified.

"Yes, I'd like the three-piece chicken nuggets with a side of PULL OVER AND STOP SHOOTING LIKE MANIACS!" I demanded.

Suddenly, out came the tommy gun. I would've laughed at them using an actual TOMMY GUN, but...well, even if I was impervious to bullets, which whizzed through my body harmlessly, I still was having a gun pointed at me. Not much to laugh about. In fact, I knew that I had to put a stop to this before anyone else could get shot. So, I did a barrel roll over the car and, focusing all the mass that I could into my fists, I punched through the front hood of the car, spooking the driver. Part one accomplished, I flew ahead of the car full of mobsters, solidifying as much as I possibly could, and let the car crash into me. Lucky for the people in the car, they were at least smart enough to put on seat belts, and all looked to be alright, despite the damage to the vehicle. The driver looked up weakly at me, and I just gave a cute peace sign.

"Can I get a whoop-whoop for girl power?" I asked, letting loose a little giggle for the sheer cheesiness. The occupants of the car didn't look too amused. "...Okay, so, never saying that again."

"You crazy, blonde bitch!" one of the men in the car roared as he stumbled out and brandished a knife. He stabbed at my gut with it, only for the knife to compact against me. Not in any mood for this, I grabbed him and levitated a couple of feet off the ground, watching as he started to sweat from fear.

"Look, I'm trying really hard to stay in as good a mood as possible, so I'm gonna have to ask that you be nice and answer my question," I said in as calm a voice as I could. "Now, where is Fonzie?"

The man in my grip smirked a little. "Watch Happy Days, broad."

I smirked back at him. "Ha ha, it's funny because you're playing hard ball with the flying girl. Y'know, I heard in class once that most people can't go much higher than 26,000 feet before they start having problems breathing. I wonder how high  **I**  need to be?" I'd actually later find out that was kind of a non-issue, but that's not really the point. The point is that this got the guy to be more cooperative, and his smirk very quickly started to fade. "Now, let's try that again: Where's Fonzie?"

"L-Look, you're biting off more than you can chew, kid," the man insisted. "Fonzie...Well, she's scary as all hell, okay? And you know what she'd do if ANYONE ratted her out to the police?"

"Do I look like the police to you?" I demanded, getting a lot more serious. "Someone died yesterday because of her, and another was put in the hospital. And that's probably only a teeny tiny fraction of the people she's hurt or killed. You don't want that number to include you someday? Tell me where she is."

The man groaned. "Alright, alright! South-west side. It's an old factory off the coast. I dunno what she's doing there, but it's kinda like her home nowadays. She never leaves."

"See, now was that so hard?" I asked, dropping the guy onto his friends as they got out of the car.

With the information I wanted, I took off into the sky before the police could make it to the scene. Looking back, though, I found them managing to apprehend the guys I'd stopped, so I didn't have to worry about that. I was free to head straight for the factory and deal with Fonzie. It looked like I was going to close Dad's longest-running case on my first night on the job.

...Or so I thought. As I was flying over the small neighbourhood below, I caught sight of someone exiting their house to the sound of screaming on both sides. Someone with long, fiery red hair, who was walking on crutches. Charlotte Sampson. And she did not look happy at all. In fact, as I watched on, having come to a full stop, she made her way over to a picnic table in her backyard, threw her crutches on it, sat down, and buried her face in her hands.

I don't know what possessed me to do what I did next. This was Charlotte. CHARLOTTE, the homophobic bully who tried to break my ribs, and only failed because my powers kicked in. The girl who made my and Olette's lives a living hell. The person who rigged my locker with a urine trap. The one who thought it was a perfectly ethical thing to offer someone peace by demanding they stop being gay and get laid by her brother. The single most disgustingly evil excuse for a human being that I had ever met in my entire scholastic life, and had no right to my concern or pity.

...Charlotte, who was sitting alone in her backyard and crying.

And no, I didn't just float down into her backyard to say "Hey", if that's what you're thinking. I'm not THAT stupid. Instead, I came down into the ground a couple of houses away, flew toward her house, and peeked my head up into the bushes of her backyard. Okay, still kinda stupid, and yeah, definitely an invasion of privacy, but what can I say? It seemed like a good idea and the right thing to do at the time. I can't fully explain why, it just was.

Anyway, as I watched and listened, a woman in her late 30s with light brown hair came out of the house. I quickly guessed she was probably Charlotte's mom. She stood in the backyard with her hands on her hips, looking a bit aggravated at Charlotte. Charlotte, meanwhile, lifted her head a little, and likewise didn't look all that happy. Honestly, her face seemed to reflect the feeling of wanting to be left alone.

"...You wanna maybe explain what happened in there, young lady?" the woman demanded, confirming my theory that she was Charlotte's mom. If not the 'young lady' comment, the tone of her voice definitely gave her away.

"I'm sorry, just...Dan got to me, okay?!" Charlotte yelled. "Why does he have to be like that?!"

"He wants you to work harder at school and not have stuff like THIS happen," Charlotte's mother replied, gesturing to Charlotte's crutches, "and suddenly HE'S the bad guy?"

"It's not just that, it's everything," Charlotte insisted, trying to calm herself. "He has to pick on every little thing that doesn't match his definition of perfection. And, for the record, it's not exactly like I meant to end up like this, you know."

Charlotte's mother sighed hard, crossing her arms. "Charlotte, your father just wants-"

"He's NOT my father!" Charlotte shouted, slapping the picnic table. "He may be your husband, but he's not my father!"

"And I suppose you'd rather have your OLD father, who ran out on us?!" Charlotte's mom shrieked, clearly enraged. "That flaming f-...freak, who decided he'd rather go down on his accountant than me?!"

My eye twitched hard as I heard Charlotte's mother say this. I'd never heard anything about the Sampson family, ever. I had no idea Charlotte's father was actually her step-father, and I DEFINITELY didn't know that her blood-relation father was gay. I HAD heard something once about how the Sampsons came from pretty devout Christian families on both sides, though. Now, granted, Charlotte never really conducted herself in a very Christian or religious fashion. Being a foul-mouthed bully who offered people essentially 'corrective sex' with their brother isn't what I'd call holy. However, if that was true about her family, then hearing that Charlotte's father was gay, and that he and his wife had gotten a divorce, and THEN that Charlotte's mother remarried, all of which would've been highly frowned upon...Well, suddenly, I was beginning to understand a little bit more about why Charlotte treated me the way she did. I didn't have the full story, though. I'd have to wait for a while before I got it.

At that point, I realized that I really shouldn't have been there, eavesdropping on this whole conversation. So, I floated my way back through their fence and out of their backyard. I came up out of the ground and was about to take off into the air again, but that's when I heard the back door of Charlotte's home swing open super hard. Unable to help myself, I peered through a small hole in the fence. Standing there was a dark-haired man with glasses, who I quickly realized must've been Dan. He looked angry as hell, and his seemed maybe a little wobbly.

_Oh crap,_  I thought to myself.  _He's drunk. This is not gonna end well..._

Even though he was yelling, I could barely make out what he was saying. I COULD tell that he was ranting and rambling about how Charlotte was letting her grades slip, and how she was missing school because of what happened between me and her the other day, but the rest was kind of a slurred blur. All the while, Charlotte's mother was backing off, and I could see, watching in a window, a redheaded boy about Charlotte's age, looking absolutely petrified. Must've been that brother of hers she was trying to set me up with. And, to be fair, if I were interested in boys, I WOULD consider him to be a bit of a looker. The only one who didn't look afraid of Dan was Charlotte, who just seemed more ticked off by him than anything. She just kept staring indignantly at him, even as he was stomping his way over on wobbly legs.

I clenched my hands tightly as sweat dripped down my face. I knew where this was going. Thing is, this kind of domestic dispute really shouldn't be interfered with unless a call is made to 911 or the like. Unless it was reported, what I was watching wasn't officially a crime in progress. But, on the other hand, I could tell from the looks on the other members of Charlotte's family that they weren't about to call the cops; Dan had no reason to, and Charlotte looked more than ready to deal with this argument herself. The problem with that was that one of the people involved in this fight was drunk, and the other already had a broken leg. If this boiled down to physical violence, someone was going to get hurt. BADLY.

...So, of course, as I realized that exact fact, that's when you-know-who decided to say the exact thing to kick off the violence.

"Maybe I just don't care to adhere to the vision of perfection owned by a drunken-" And that's when Charlotte began to list off several different names and curse words that...well, I just don't much care to share here. Point is, Dan very clearly took exception to that. He hit her. Not even an open-handed slap, either. He straight up punched her in the face and sent her sprawling to the ground.

And that was my own trigger. My bully or not, when I saw Charlotte get hit like that, I'd had enough. I phased through the fence and flew at Dan, turning solid just before I reached him, and gave him a punch to his own face with a yell. He fell on his ass to the ground in a daze, trying to figure out what had just happened to him. I'd imagine he probably thought he was delirious when he saw me standing over him, dressed like I was, but either way, he adopted a fight or flight mindset, deciding to try hitting back. Thing is, drunk and dazed as he was, and being on the ground, he wasn't exactly going to hit anything, even if I hadn't grabbed his hand out of the air and shoved on it hard enough to send him on his back.

"Don't you EVER hit her again!" I screamed, kneeling down and grabbing Dan by the collar. "If I EVER find out you so much as touched her again, I will curb-stomp your head off! Do you understand me?!"

Dan didn't say anything. No one did. I guess everyone was still in a state of shock. I just continued to glare at at the drunk beneath me...and then I saw something. Something staring back at me in the reflection of Dan's cracked glasses. It was a face. But it wasn't mine. It LOOKED like mine, but it wasn't. It had a look of raw indignation in her face that I didn't believe I was capable of. And suddenly, as I looked into her eyes, I felt like I was gonna be sick. I knew those eyes. I knew that look. It was the same look that, just a few days ago, I'd looked upon with pity and disgust.

"I'll curb-stomp your head off!" I heard in my head, repeating over and over. The words Charlotte had used on Olette. The words of a bully. Now, I was using them on Charlotte's step-father.

I let go of Dan, stumbling back a little, and looked over at Charlotte, who was being protected by her mother. More specifically, though, I was looking at her leg. The leg that my body unintentionally broke to defend itself. And then I looked into her eyes, and I saw something that made me even sicker: Fear. It was the same look that they all shared. They were afraid. I'd come into this situation as a heroine, but I conducted myself as a bully.

"...I'm sorry..." I whimpered before phasing down through the ground and out of their yard. Then I hauled ass back to my house. Fonzie, crime, none of it mattered right then and there. What mattered was getting home.

As soon as I got home, I phased out of my costume. I wanted it off, IMMEDIATELY. Olette was there. I didn't care if she saw me naked. She'd seen it once already. I could hear her trying to say something, but I couldn't tell what. I just curled up into a ball and started crying. I distinctly remember mumbling something about what had happened, but I don't think I got it out quite right. Mostly, I just cried. So, Olette just held me close, rocked me gently, and stroked my hair, letting me get it all out.

There are days that I look back on that night, when Olette was there for me, and I just wonder why it was that I became a superhero and not her. Above all else, her love for heroes, her compassion, and her strength of character, that one night makes it clear to me that she will ALWAYS be the more deserving of the role. God help me if I ever had to do all of this without her.


	10. Chapter 10

I'm not exactly sure when it was that I went to sleep Friday night, or how I eventually found myself in my pajamas. All I know is that I woke up Saturday morning with my face aimed at my window, and had to block out the sight of it with my hand. My eyes and throat felt a little sore, and I was feeling a bit depressed. I could also feel that my stomach was kinda empty, which is probably why I woke up to begin with. So, I turned over to get out of bed...and there, sitting in my chair, watching over me, was my dad.

"D-Dad!" I exclaimed, suddenly phasing out of bed and falling into the basement before floating back up into my room.

Dad just grinned like an idiot at this. "Someday, I'm gonna record you doing that, so that you can appreciate the hilarity of it."

"You're home!" I yelled, ignoring his statement and grabbing him in a big hug. "The doctors let you out?!"

"...No, I made a daring escape," Dad joked. "They said I was fine to come home, as long as I didn't try doing anything too physical for awhile."

I smiled, clinging to my father. "I'm just glad you're home."

"Me too, babygirl," Dad said, softly kissing my forehead. "I heard you had a rough time while I was in the hospital."

I sighed hard, shoulders slumping. "Last night was a disaster. I ended up catching Charlotte's family in a fight, and-" Before I could finish explaining, though, I was interrupted by the sound of my stomach gurgling, much to my immense embarrassment.

Dad just kept grinning. "Yeah, Olette mentioned you might be hungry. She's in the kitchen making breakfast with...what was his name? Sammy?"

"...Scotty's here?" I asked, baffled. "And Olette stayed overnight?" Believe it or not, that actually surprised me more than Scotty being there. Not that I was surprised that she would want to, of course, but that, after all we talked about how her parents would never let her, Olette got to spend the night here.

"They were worried about you," my dad explained, his face getting a little more serious as he eased us both onto the edge of my bed. "And yeah, Olette told me about Charlotte. Or, rather, what you were able to get out about it."

I nodded, looking down at the floor. "...I was flying to Fonzie's hideout, and then I saw Charlotte come out of her house all upset. Her and her step-dad got into a fight, and then he hit her, and the next thing I knew, I was standing over him, making threats." Dad didn't say anything, just taking in the information. "Dad...Charlotte's mom said that Charlotte's dad was gay? That he left them?"

It was Dad's turn to sigh now. "I'd overheard Claire, Charlotte's mother, say something once at a parent-teacher gathering about her ex-husband. Said he'd had an affair of some kind. Didn't really get into the details much."

I recalled Claire mentioning to Charlotte about how Charlotte's dad had 'run out on them', and that something had happened between himself and his accountant. "Do you think that's why Charlotte-"

"Ah, who knows?" Dad replied, resting a hand on my shoulder. "Maybe that's the reason, maybe there's more to it. People are complicated."

"I just wish I hadn't done that," I admitted. "It was stupid eavesdropping on her and her family, and...and I wasn't being a hero at all when I got involved."

"...Honey, I want you to understand something, because it's really important," my dad started to explain, gently tilting my head so that our eyes met. "What you did last night, intervening in that situation, you probably did the right thing. I think I would've done the same. And, based on what I heard, Dan probably deserved what happened to him. But the way you did it, the manner in which you chose to involve yourself, and the words you used were all wrong. And I don't blame you for flying off the handle like that, either, but Cassie, you're in a position right now where every action or inaction you take is going to reflect on you and how people perceive you."

"And the worst part is, I had to dress like Sailor V," I muttered. And while part of me kind of meant it, it still managed to get a laugh out of me and Dad.

"Yeah, I hope the costume that this Scotty fellow is making for you is a bit more dignified," Dad admitted, chuckling.

With that conversation out of the way, Dad gave me the privacy to get changed. I didn't NEED to, mind you, but...well, I just didn't want to meet Olette and Scotty in my PJs. So, I got changed into a yellow tank-top and purple jeans. Once that was done, I headed out to the kitchen, and the second I turned the corner into it, I was immediately tackle-hugged into the wall by Olette.

"Cassie!" O cheered, hugging me tight and causing me to blush as her chest was ground up against mine. "Are you feeling any better?"

"Uh-huh," I murmured, my face red like a shiny apple. "Kinda hungry, though."

"I hope you like grilled cheese sandwiches, then," Scotty declared from the stove, having switched out the apron he used while working on costumes for a white chef's apron. "I, uh...I-I don't really know how to make anything else for breakfast. If not for my mom, I'd probably eat the exact same breakfast every day for all eternity."

"Well, it could be a lot worse than having to eat grilled cheese every morning," Dad pointed out as Olette finally released me, the three of us taking seats at the table. A few moments later, Scotty began serving up the sandwiches before taking a seat himself. "...Well, it looks good, anyway."

"Thank you, Mr. Doyle," Scotty replied as we dug in. "Anyway, I brought the costume with me. It's almost done. I just need to finish stitching the cape along the back, which I can do here."

"Great," I said with a smile. And I meant it, for the record. After talking with my dad, I was feeling a little better about myself and what I was doing. Still, before I could feel GREAT about myself, there was something I needed to do, and someone I needed to see.

After breakfast, I excused myself, saying there was something I needed to take care of. I think they all at least had a general understanding of what I might have meant. I decided to stay mostly underground, using my phone's GPS to lead me to where I wanted to go, since I wasn't in costume. Anyway, it didn't take me long to get close to where I was going, so I came up out of the ground in an alley before walking the rest of the way. Within a few minutes, I was in front of my destination, walking up to the front door of the house. I gave the doorbell a ring, and after a couple of minutes, the front door opened, revealing a somewhat annoyed-looking redhead standing there on crutches.

"...Hey," I said, more than a bit nervous.

Charlotte's eyes narrowed. "Hello, blondie. Here for Round 2? You might've broken my leg before, but I could still tear your hair out."

"I just wanna talk," I replied, rubbing my arm. "...Please?"

Charlotte just stared at me, as if she couldn't believe what she'd just heard. Not like she was in shock or surprise, mind you, but like I'd said something so stupid and predictable that she couldn't understand why I'd say it. I was pretty sure she was about ready to slam the door in my face after a while. Instead, she just hobbled over to the side of the doorway, gesturing for me to come in.

"My folks aren't home," Charlotte said as I walked in. "They're...out. Getting groceries."

I blinked, confused. "...On a Saturday?"

"It's a thing," Charlotte explained rather lamely as she closed the door, and I could tell she was lying through her teeth. "So, what do you want to talk about? My recovery? How I got to be so popular? Or maybe you're tired of Olette and decided to come down here to seduce me."

I turned to face Charlotte, unamused, but opted not to take the bait she was setting up for me to grab hold of. "I wanna ask about your dad. Your REAL dad."

Charlotte scowled hard. "...So, how'd you find out? Did someone stooge the information to you? Is my standing in the student body THAT damaged now?"

I fidgeted slightly. There was something in Charlotte's eyes that told me she was still playing games. At that point, it occurred to me that, between what had happened a few days ago, what had happened yesterday, and the possible rumours going around, she'd put it all together in her head that I was Star Lake's masked vigilante. However, even if she had, it didn't look like she was going to say anything one way or the other. And, sure enough, she didn't leave me much time to ponder it.

"Whatever, I guess it doesn't matter," Charlotte muttered. "You wanna know the truth? Here it is: My mom and dad married young. I don't know WHEN he figured out he really didn't like women, but one day, my mom found out that he was having an affair with his accountant. He was gone after that. She wouldn't let him back in the house, and then she went ahead and filed for divorce. And THEN, after that, just to put more distance between us, she decided to move us all to this shit-hole to be with a guy she'd met."

"You mean your step-dad," I acknowledged. "Where'd she meet him?"

"Believe it or not, Alcoholics Anonymous," Charlotte answered, and I had to fight back the urge to point out that AA clearly didn't help him much. "He was actually from out of town, but sat in on our town's AA meeting while visiting a friend. Anyway, point is, she uprooted me and my brother and moved us down here, just to get away from Dad, and then got hitched to Dan within a year."

"So that's what happened," I said as I took a seat in a comfy chair in the living room, Charlotte likewise laying back on the couch. "...I'm sorry."

"Oh, do NOT do that," Charlotte snarled. "Do NOT pity me. I've been through enough in life without having to add Cassie Doyle pitying me."

"Well, I just, I wish you didn't have to go through that is all," I explained. "I'm sorry that your family was split up, and that you had to move. But...you know that, just because your dad turned out to be gay, that doesn't mean you have to be so-"

To my surprise, Charlotte actually laughed as I said that. "Oh please! You think THAT'S why I've come at you so often?! Newsflash: There are PLENTY of gay folks in our school, some of which are in my circle! They just aren't as out there with that as you are!"

I was completely baffled by this statement. "Then...why?!"

"You really wanna know so bad?!" Charlotte demanded, forcing herself to sit up as she glared into my eyes. "Okay, here's the truth: The reason I single you out is because I hate your freaking guts! Because you've got it too damned good in life!"

It was my turn to scowl at that. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me!" Charlotte yelled. "And don't give me that crap about 'Oh, my mother left when I was so young', or 'I don't even know if it'll still be legal for me and Olette to get married when we're out of school'! You have it too good because you could literally be anything you want, as big a screw-up as humanly possible, and guess what?! Your father would still love you! You don't have a dad who thinks B actually DOES stand for 'Bad', or who treats one answer wrong on a test like you did it on purpose, just to spite them!"

My mouth hung open, and I was about ready to retort, but Charlotte wouldn't let me. "And you know what makes it 1000 times worse?! You can't even be content with that! Everything has to be all 'Oh, poor me! Everyone feel bad for me!' Well I DON'T feel bad for you, Cassie! I HATE you, and I wish you'd never come into my life!"

There was silence after that. Neither of us were really sure what to say to the other. I could tell even Charlotte was feeling more than a little bit awkward at that point, like even she understood she might've gone a little too far in her explosion. As for me, I just kept contemplating what she'd said in my head over and over, until finally, the question I REALLY wanted to ask next presented itself.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked, earning a legitimately surprised look from Charlotte this time. "In all the time you've made my life miserable, why didn't you just tell me how you really felt?"

Charlotte rolled her eyes and scoffed. "What would it have changed? I mean, REALLY? You can't honestly tell me you would've changed for me. People don't change for others, they only change for themselves. What possible reason would me telling you all of this give you to change your ways?"

Hearing that, I just giggled, which again surprised Charlotte. "See, that's where you're wrong. People change all the time, whether they want to or not. All they need is the right kick in the ass."

"What the hell is THAT supposed to mean?" Charlotte asked, right before she was surprised yet again by me leaning over and giving her a big hug. "Hey, what the-...Have you gone crazy or something?!"

"Nope," I replied, letting her go and getting up to leave. "I just wanted to say thank you...for giving me the kick in the ass I needed."

And, with that, I just left her there, baffled as all hell. I left, I headed to the closest alley I could find, and then I flew back home, grinning all the way. For me, the biggest struggle I'd been going through was finally over. I'd made the decision. A few days ago, I became something else. Now it was time to accept that fact that I was someONE else.


	11. Chapter 11

Y'know, at this point, I'd just like to say how thankful I am that the objects I'm holding stay with me while I'm flying underground. Having my phone's GPS guide me as I go is a huge help. Otherwise, no matter how well I knew this city, I just know I'd be screwing up where I was coming out when I go topside. That said, I WOULD like to point out that, when I come up, I don't just pop out of the ground. I come up slow, so that I don't come out in the wrong place or freak someone out...most of the time.

Unfortunately, this was not one of those times. My mind was occupied with getting home quick, so I didn't think to come up slow. So, when I thought I was under my room, I came up quick. Instead, I phased up through the kitchen table, right in front of poor Scotty, and freaked him out, causing him to fall out of his chair. Thank God he wasn't eating or drinking, or I'd be in SO much trouble.

"Sorry, sorry!" I cried, touching down onto the ground. "My bad."

"I-I'm okay, really!" Scotty replied, scrambling to get up as Olette and my dad entered the room.

"Hey, you took care of everything you needed?" Olette asked, pulling me into a quick hug.

"Yeah, I think so," I answered before turning back to face Scotty. "How's the costume coming along?"

Scotty grinned a little as he got back to his feet. "Well, why don't you come see for yourself?"

My face brightened as Scotty led us to the living room, where he'd been working on my costume since coming over. And there it was, lying on the sofa, in all of its purple, black, and yellow glory. He'd even included yellow buckles on the boots. I'm pretty sure I felt my lip tremble at the sight of it.

"Go ahead, try it on!" Olette urged, rubbing my shoulders.

I giggled a little, glad that O was being the super-excited one for me. Walking over to the sofa, I grabbed hold of the main costume and held it up in the air. Then, I carefully phased my body so that, as my clothes slid off piece by piece, the costume took their place. After that, I slid the boots on, and placed the mask over my eyes, completing the look. With all of that done, I turned and looked at myself in the mirror. There was no doubt in my mind then, looking at my reflection, that I'd let myself become what I was most afraid of being when I got my powers: A superhero.

"...WOW," Olette moaned, blushing hard at the sight before me.

My dad snickered at O's reaction. "How does it feel, Cass?"

"It feels great," I replied, looking myself over. "Just baggy enough that I don't give away too much of my body shape, but not so much that I look like I just went jogging."

"Yeah, but I can't help but feel like something's missing," Scotty admitted.

Hearing that, Dad snapped his fingers and told us all to wait there before running to his room. The three of us just stood awkwardly in the living room for a couple of minutes, listening to my dad rummaging through his closet, before he came back. In his arms was a brown and yellow belt with a bunch of pockets and pouches along it, and it had a circular buckle with a big golden star in the center.

"...Wait, is that...?" I asked, suddenly recognizing it.

"My belt," Dad finished with a smile, handing it over. "The same one I wore when I was a detective. I used it to keep all of my useful stuff on hand, including some gadgets I had some buddies of mine make. Can't be sure how dated they are now, but-"

"It's perfect," I cut in, graciously taking the belt with a tear in my eye and then setting it on my waist. "...Thanks, Dad. Olette, Scotty. You guys..."

"Hey, I'm just glad to see my work paying off for something that helps everybody," Scotty explained, scratching his nose.

I rolled my eyes at his dismissive thanks before facing Olette. Her eyes showed so many emotions all at once: Pride, joy, and more than a little bit of lust, which I wanted to giggle at. At first, she didn't say anything. She just pulled me in for a tight hug, wrapping her arms around me as my cape draped over the both of us. Then she kissed me on the cheek and whispered in my ear, making me want to shiver at the feel of it, "Go get 'em, Starslip."

I nodded, smiling confidently as we pulled apart. I gave her, my dad, and Scotty each a quick glance before reaching down into my pants pocket and pulling out my cellphone, putting it into one of the empty compartments on my belt. Then, after backing up a couple of steps, I jumped as high as I could and phased through the roof, launching myself straight up into the air before adjusting to head out over town.

After a quick flight, I managed to get to the factory, sticking to the side with the most shadows before practically clinging to the walls. Making my way along them and glancing as quickly as I could through the windows, I finally came to what looked to be an office of some sort, with a closet off to its side. Phasing into the closet, I silently made my way to the closet door, peering through the cracks of the door and listening to what was going on.

From the looks and sounds of things, there was a meeting going on, and it wasn't a happy one. And there, sitting at a desk, was her. Tammy Alfonso. Fonzie, as she was otherwise known. The head of all crime in Star Lake. The woman whose mob war was the direct cause of my mother running out on me when I was five. The one whose cronies killed Mack. The vile human being responsible for nearly every terrible thing in my hometown...and I had to stop myself from giggling at just how absurd she looked and sounded.

Let me explain. First off all, her clothes made her out to be a living stereotype of a 60s style gangster, right down to her white and black business suit and matching fedora. She looked like something out of Dick Tracy. It suddenly hit me why crooks in this town were still using tommy guns. I wouldn't be surprised if she called one of her goons 'Mugsy'. Oh, but that wasn't even the worst of it. Lemme share with you some of what was being said.

"So, which one of you scrotum-shaved assholes wanna explain exactly WHY you blew up a cop?!" Fonzie asked in a tone that was somehow both relaxed and menacing at the same time.

The bald one of the four men present gulped before speaking. "...F-Fonzie, sir-"

"MA'AM, Dom!" Tammy Alfonso yelled, causing all of her men to flinch.

 _This is the woman who is directly responsible for my town being a crap-hole,_  I realized as the bald man, Dom, stammered out an explanation, all the while I was feeling VERY depressed.  _Yeah, she definitely has police connections. There's no other way someone could get away with being like this._

'-so I figured, since they were the only ones to know Sam was rattin' you out, the best way to deal with that was to erase them," Dom explained, sweating hard. "Plus, makin' a ruckus like that was the best way I could think of to go in and get Tina's body."

"You did all of that just to reclaim my late husband's ex-fiancée's corpse?" Fonzie inquired.

"Well, yeah, but she was one of ours, right?" Dom asked. "I mean, didn't she help you fortify your position as head of the mob here in Star Lake? Anyway, we needed to get her outta there, so the cops couldn't link ya to the crime."

I watched as Tammy smiled sweetly, despite the psychotic look in her eyes, pushing off the desk and getting to her feet. "Oh. Well, that IS sweet of you, Dom, trying to protect little ol' me."

Dom rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. "W-Well, I was just thi-"

Dom was cut off as his necktie was grabbed by Fonzie, hauling him to the wall just a foot away from the door I was listening through, pinning him to it. "Such a sweet, loyal man. Someone worthy of my favour. Would you like that? To be worthy of my favour?"

I could hear Dom gulp hard, and I could just imagine him blushing beat red. "M-M-M-May-Maybe?"

I watched one of the other men present look away, knowing what was coming as Tammy giggled a little. "Mm, yes, I feel I should repay your loyalty to me somehow. You know the part I should especially reward?"

Dom panted hard. "Wh-Which part?"

And that's when I heard Tammy whisper, "The part where you killed a cop and put his detective friend in the hospital after they were already on my ass," followed by the sound of Dom grunting hard as something was jabbed into him, and I knew he'd been stabbed. "And now, my operation is in HUGE disarray, as what cops I DON'T have under my adoring sway are gonna be looking for ANY evidence against me in this, because God knows, I could have ANYONE killed in this town and they wouldn't give a shit, but one of theirs? It's like shooting a nest of bees."

"M-Ma'am..!" Dom groaned pathetically.

"That's SIR," Alfonso corrected, yanking the knife away and letting Dom fall to the floor. "Oh, and for the record, you could've gone in ANY time to get Tina's body. She'd been dead for HOURS. You didn't need a ruckus to go in there, you lying piece of trash."

"F-F-Fonize," Dom moaned as he tried to get back to his feet. "L-Lemme explain-"

"CLEAVELAND!" Fonzie screeched at the top of her lungs. And no, I didn't misspell that name. And you'll see why in a second.

The other men in the room backed up to the far wall. I kept watching and listening, confused, until after a few seconds, I could hear the stomping of someone big and heavy coming up a nearby staircase. It was at that point that I noticed just how huge the doors to the office were, right when they were swung open to reveal a VERY large man. And when I say large, I mean he could not have been any shorter than 6'8". His face was covered with a brown mask that looked like it was made from a potato sack, with a single red lens covering over one of his eyes. He wore a long brown coat and matching work-pants, with hefty-looking boots on his feet. Only his hands were bare, but they looked to be about as big as my head. He looked like some kind of nightmarish combination of a butcher and an executioner.

"Take Dom downstairs to be dealt with," Fonzie ordered, stepping away to let Cleaveland grab hold of Dom before looking to the other men present. "If this ever happens again, I will personally feed each and every one of you your own fingers. Roy, get down to the garage and tell Lee to get the car ready. I'm going to the lab to see if they have everything ready for tomorrow night."

A gray-haired man cleared his throat, all the while Dom was dragged out screaming and clawing at the floor. "Well, considering that you told them to have it ready by Wednesday night, they-"

"Had better hope to God they can get things done faster," Tammy finished in a disturbingly sweet voice, heading for the closet door. "Tell him I'll be right down, kiss kiss!"

Seeing Fonzie headed my way, I phased down through the floor, which was just thick enough for me to stay flat inside without being seen from above or below. As carefully as I could, I made my way out from under her closet, now directly under the staircase as Dom was being carried down them. However, that wasn't all I heard. As the men from Fonzie's office exited, I could hear one of them, Roy, whisper something into his cellphone. I couldn't make out the whole thing, but I KNEW I heard him say something about having four cars on the corner of McKone and Lemire, and a couple more on stand-by. Something about that made my blood turn cold, like I knew there was something wrong, but I was more focused on another matter.

I listened as Cleaveland hauled Dom to a room downstairs. I knew what Alfonso meant when she asked him to have Dom 'dealt with'. And based on Cleaveland's clothes, it wasn't going to be pretty. So, now I was left with a choice: Let a man die brutally, or save the man who killed Mack and tried to kill my dad? In my head, it seemed like an obvious answer. After all, what did this guy do to deserve the chance to be saved? If it wasn't for him, Mack would still be alive, and my dad...my dad...

"Nothing you do can be about vengeance," I remembered Dad saying. "You have to be something bigger. This won't be about just stopping crooks, it'll be about changing minds. You need to be something that will inspire the people of this city to be better, and to not let what's gone on continue."

 _Dad...sometimes, I really hate you,_  I thought, floating down to the floor and sneaking into the room where Cleaveland had taken Dom.

As I entered the room and slipped behind a table, I had to fight off the need to shiver really hard and loudly. It didn't take long for me to realize where I was: It was a giant freezer, kind of like the ones butchers use to safely store their meat. And there was Dom, with his hands chained up over his head and hung from a steel hook, begging Cleaveland not to kill him, all the while Cleaveland was grabbing the biggest, meanest-looking cleaver I'd ever seen in my life off of the table. It had been stuck in a piece of meat that I found myself hoping to God was from a pig or something, even though I knew damned well it probably wasn't.

"D-Don't, PLEASE!" Dom screamed as Cleaveland stepped up to him, cleaver raised.

There wasn't time for a plan. I just reacted. Not that that likely would've stopped me if there HAD been time for a plan, though. I AM kind of brash and reactionary, as you've probably learned at this point. So, I rolled to Cleaveland's left, solidified my feet, and gave him a jumping side-kick to the shoulder, knocking him away and sending him tumbling across a table.

"Hang on, I'll have you free in a sec," I said, reaching up to the hook.

"Who the hell are you?!" Dom demanded, just before the chain came undone and he fell to his knees.

"C'mon, we're getting out of here," I said, putting a hand on Dom's shoulder.

"This was a BAD idea!" Dom yelled, to which I rolled my eyes and concentrated on phasing us both through the floor...only for nothing to happen. "...W-What? What are you doing?"

My eyes widened in fear as I tried again to phase us both through the floor. Nothing happened. I tried doing it again, this time by myself. Still nothing. All the while, Cleaveland was starting to get back up, holding that massive cleaver in his hand. I started to pant a bit, watching my cold breath float through the air...and that's pretty much when I realized my mistake, thinking back to the ice pack Olette had used on my wrist. And everything I'd done since then to experiment with how the cold affected my body had told me the same thing: The colder I was, the harder it was for me to turn intangible, and the more focus and effort I'd need to put into it. The only problem with THAT being the near seven footer standing just a few feet away, looking like the stuff of nightmares.

"...I think you were right," I muttered. "This WAS a bad idea."


	12. Chapter 12

So, there I was, standing with an arm in front of the man who hospitalized my dad and killed Dad's best friend, trying to protect him from someone that looked like he'd stepped out of a horror movie. Because of how cold it was in the giant freezer we were all standing in, I couldn't just phase Dom and myself out of the room. And I COULD try my luck in just running for the door, but even if I managed it, I'd have to leave Dom to get cut up into tiny little pieces. And, while part of my mind reasoned that he'd get what he deserved, it wasn't my job to judge him, and I wasn't about to sit back and let someone die.

"Down!" I yelled, grabbing Dom and hauling him down and behind a table as Cleaveland actually picked one up and hurled it at us, instead sending it smashing against the wall. Once we were down, I whispered to Dom "Where the hell did Fonzie get a henchman like THAT?"

"He's no ordinary henchman," Dom whimpered, still clutching the right side of his abdomen where Fonzie had stabbed him earlier as I helped him along the floor. "Fonzie bought him from some guy down south. Called him a Superhuman, a human being who gets superpowers when they're under a lot of stress and physical harm, like their life is in danger."

_Powers triggered by physical harm, huh?_ _At least now I have a name for what I am._ I thought, hiding under a table with Dom as Cleaveland shoved another one at the door, blocking it off. Looking down at my belt, I started rummaging through the pockets.  _Okay, Dad, let's see what kinda goodies you gave me..._

As Dom and I hid under the table, the sound of Cleaveland stomping around us, I came across a series of tiny smoke pellets in one of my pouches. I guessed they might help a little, but then there was the matter of navigating through the room in smoke, so I put them back, mentally labeling them Plan B. Unfortunately, there wasn't much else to be of help: Pliers, a pretty sturdy-looking chain with a grappling hook, and a flashlight.

I took a look around. I managed to spot the only window in the room, which had barbed wire on the other side of the glass. The pliers could cut through it, but I needed to keep Cleaveland away while Dom and I made our escape. I couldn't think of anything the flashlight could help with, but an idea hit me as I glanced at the grappling hook: If I could use it to tie him down, then Dom and I could get out through the window.

"Stay down," I whispered, waiting for Cleaveland to be pointed away from us and looking under a different table. "I've got this."

Dom nodded, still looking terrified and in terrible pain. I crawled out from under the table and fastened the hook to the legs of another table. Then, with a yell, I swung the chain around Cleaveland's body and arms, solidified myself as much as I could, and hauled back on him. He let out a roar that sounded more animal than human, leaving me wondering just what the hell was under that mask. I grit my teeth hard and pulled as hard as possible, but he was still too strong, so I let myself de-solidify a little bit and then swung my leg around, catching him in the gut. I knew my kicks at full hardness could smash through boulders, so naturally, I wasn't willing to hit that hard, instead just trying to knock the wind out of him. While it didn't work anywhere near as much as I thought it would, he still lurched forward a little bit and let himself go limp enough for me to haul him to the table and chain him to it as tightly as I could.

"C'mon!" I yelled, looking down at Dom. "We're getting out of here!"

Dom scrambled up and out from under the table as Cleaveland wrestled against the chain. Helping Dom up, I led us to the back window and punched the glass out, not even bothering to open it. Then I reached into my belt and got the pliers. I was about to start cutting when I heard a loud crack behind us. Spinning around, I saw Cleaveland getting up from the table, the broken chain in his hands.

"Are you freaking kidding me?!" I demanded, handing the pliers to Dom. "Start cutting!"

Dom fumbled with the pliers a little bit, going to work on the barbed wire as I squared off with Cleaveland again. Realizing that this guy's Superhuman abilities made him a lot stronger and more durable than an ordinary person, it meant I couldn't afford to hold back with him. The next time I hit him, I'd have to be really trying to hurt him. I'll admit, part of me hated that a little bit, but the rest of me was more focused on getting out of that freezer alive. Super solidifying again, I aimed a punch at Cleaveland's jaw and managed to connect, causing him to stumble back a step, only for him to swing his honking big meat cleaver at my gut. The cleaver shattered across me as the force of the impact knocked me back against the wall about a foot away from Dom.

"...I actually felt that...!" I realized.

I gently touched my stomach. Luckily, despite the tiny tear in my costume, I could tell I wasn't bleeding. Unfortunately, that small comfort quickly disappeared as Cleaveland opened the outer layer of his coat to reveal even more nightmarish-looking cutlery hung inside. He eventually settled on a large steak knife that looked to be straight out of Psycho. It was so clean and shiny, I could actually catch a glimpse of my own horrified expression in its reflection.

"...Dom, might wanna hurry!" I yelled, clenching my fists.

"This is harder than it looks!" Dom exclaimed, managing to cut through another wire.

Pushing off the wall with one foot, I flung myself at Cleaveland, fists flying. I managed to catch him in the face twice and once in the chest before he finally wrapped an arm around me and slammed me down through the middle of a table. I could feel my solidity start to go down a little as I laid there, looking up just in time to see the knife aimed at my head. I rolled out of the way, watching the knife stick into the wood with ease, before sweeping my leg to trip Cleaveland up. It didn't work so well. Clearly, exhaustion from fighting like this was affecting my powers a little bit.

Reaching down, Cleaveland grabbed hold of my cape with both hands and flung me across the room. I just barely managed to stop myself in mid-air before splattering against the wall, but then was met with a lariat that knocked me into it anyway. As I slumped to the floor, I looked over at Dom. He was nearly done, and might even be able to escape, but I was getting the tar beaten out of me and had no way to him.

_Well, this is ironic,_  I thought to myself.  _I'm gonna die saving the guy who killed Mack. That'll make for an interesting eulogy._

I watched as Cleaveland pulled out a sickle from his coat. Out of options, I decided to reach into my belt and draw a pellet. Before Cleaveland could swing his sickle, I chucked the pellet into his face, expecting smoke to explode from it. Instead, some kind of yellow, foamy substance burst out from the pellet and engulfed the side of Cleaveland's head, upper torso, and the arm holding the sickle. Within seconds, the foam had solidified to the point where Cleaveland was having more trouble with it than with the chain.

_...Huh, super-adhesive goop,_  I thought, looking down at the other pellets.  _Good to know._

With that in mind, I threw another pellet at Cleaveland's legs, which burst into enough goop to keep him sealed to the floor. I then got up and hobbled over to Dom, getting there as he finally finished with the window. Just as Cleaveland was starting to get free, the adhesiveness of the goo clearly not lasting for very long, Dom and I had managed to squirm through the small window and run out the back of the factory, right in time to hear at least three vehicles driving out of it and heading for the highway.

Shaking off the exhaustion from the fight as well as I could, I started to jog after the cars, only to stop when I heard a thud behind me. Looking back, I saw Dom down on the ground, clutching his abdomen as blood continued to spill out. I heard a roar from the factory followed by some smashing, and I knew that Cleaveland was trying to free himself from the freezer. No way Dom would live if he got out.

"C'mon...!" I moaned, making my way back to Dom and hooking one of his arms over my shoulders. "Not gonna let you die like this!"

"Why...why do you care?" Dom panted as we lifted off of the ground. "You...s-some kind of superhero, right? I'm a criminal. I...I kill people."

"Shut up," I growled, flying us in the direction of the nearest hospital. "I know damned well what you do, what you did to Sergeant Matthews. And you're gonna pay for that. But not like this."

Dom just chuckled weakly, like I'd said the most absurd thing he'd ever heard. "You...you think that kind of approach will work in a shit-town like this?"

"You better hope it does," I replied, spotting the hospital. Less than a minute later, I touched down in front of the emergency room and helped him in, immediately spotted by doctors. "This man's been stabbed! He needs help!"

"Here!" a doctor yelled, rushing over as two nurses wheeled a stretcher to us. "Put him on here. Gently, now. What happened?"

"Alfonso," I explained, easing Dom onto the stretcher as a guard came up. "Alfonso stabbed him. Almost had him killed."

"I recognize this guy," the guard observed. "Heard he worked for Fonzie."

"Doesn't matter, let's get him into surgery, stat!" the doctor exclaimed, leading Dom and the nurses down the hall.

I stayed standing there until they'd left my view. Dom was trying to look back at me, still bewildered that I saved him. The guard tried to ask me some questions, but I was barely able to give the right answers. I don't know if I was in a daze from everything that had happened, or if it was just exhaustion from the fight, but I didn't feel quite right. After a little while, though, I felt well enough to leave, deciding to try and track Alfonso down, despite the guard still having a few more questions, like who in the hell I was and what I was doing at the factory Fonzie was using as her own personal headquarters. It wasn't until I was out of the hospital, though, looking at the sign out front, that I realized something that was more than a little bit ironic to me: I'd taken Dom to Star Lake Regional Hospital, the same place where his victims had been taken just two days prior.

Shaking that thought free, I took off back into the sky. My plan at the time was to double back to where the factory was and try to track where Fonzie and her goons had gone in their cars. She'd mentioned something about a lab. I didn't know where that was, but I DID spot a white and black limousine among the vehicles leaving the factory, and assumed that was Fonzie's personal vehicle. If I found it, I'd find her.

...You ever heard the expression 'Good news/bad news' when it pertains to stuff like this? It's always something like "Good news, you won't have to look for such-and-such for very long. Bad news, it's right over there and on fire"...Okay, maybe not EXACTLY like that, but it certainly would've fit here. I wouldn't have to look very far, as it turned out. Off in the distance, as I got up into the air, I could hear the sounds of small booms coming from the south side. I looked in that direction just as I heard a much larger explosion go off.

"...Well, shit," I cursed, not caring if Dad ever found out or not.


	13. Chapter 13

My blood turned cold as I heard the explosion off in the distance, followed by the sight of a tiny mushroom cloud rising up into the sky. I guessed it had to be a car being blown up. Cars. Exploding. Hell was finally coming to claim Star Lake. Lucky for me, my stunned state was undone by the sound of my phone ringing. Pulling it out of my pocket, I hit the Receive button, holding the phone to my ear.

"Hey!" I answered, knowing full well who was on the other side.

"Where are you?!" Olette demanded.

"Over the bridge to the south side!" I replied. "Tell me you guys are staying put at the house!"

"Yeah, we're all still here!" O explained. "I heard the cops are being delayed because of trucks blocking the bridges! You've gotta clear them out of the way!"

"Uhh, not sure how I'm supposed to pull THAT off!" I pointed out, looking down at one such a truck and heading toward it despite what I'd just said. "I don't exactly have superstrength, you know!"

"...Wait, maybe she doesn't HAVE to have superstrength," I heard my dad say in the background before he took over on the phone. "Sweetie, listen to me: You said that you can alter the mass and cohesion of anything you touch, right? It's how your clothes stay on while phasing through solid matter, and how you can carry people while flying without any trouble."

I blinked for a second, trying to absorb the information, before nodding. "Y-Yeah, why?"

"Then you don't NEED superstrength," Dad continued. "If you can alter the mass of anything you touch-"

My eyes widened and my lips curled into a smirk as I caught on. "Ohh, THIS should be fun!" Putting the phone back in my belt, I touched down onto the entrance to the bridge, standing in front of the truck as the police watched on. "Everyone get back!"

The police backed off, somewhere between confused, concerned, and just plain curious. With that out of the way, I put both hands on the front of the truck and focused on making it lighter. As I did, I could myself starting to feel a little on the woozy side, but I managed to power through it as I pushed the truck out of the way of the bridge to open up all of the lanes again.

"Did it work?!" I heard Scotty yell from my phone as I bent over a little, sweat dripping down my face as I fought to regain my breathing. "Starslip!"

Grabbing the phone again, I held it up and replied "...Yeah! Whew, that felt weird! Note to self: Pretty sure the bigger and heavier something is, the harder it is to make it lighter!"

"Better hurry up," Olette said. "It's getting crazy over there."

"Will do, O," I replied, giving my head a shake to loosen the cobwebs.

"Aliases in the field, Starslip," Olette pointed out as I started to lift off.

"You don't have an alias, though," I reminded her, only getting silence. "...You have an alias, don't you?"

"Uhh, people in the group MIGHT have been referring to me as 'Homepage'," Olette admitted, and I could tell she was blushing. "It was down to that or 'Hashtag', and that made me sound like an online drug dealer."

"Good God," I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Alright, I'll head over and call you when it's over."

Hanging up, I put the phone away and took off toward the site of the shoot-out, albeit a little bit slower than I wanted, proving that using that little trick DID drain me somehow. Fortunately, it only lasted for a few seconds, after which, I started to speed up. Pretty quickly, I noticed that the turf war was happening on the corner of McKone and Lemire. As soon as I recognized that, my mind shot back to the phone conversation that Fonzie's henchman, Roy, had after their 'meeting', and suddenly, the pieces all fell together: This was a set-up for Fonzie. Roy was working for one of the other gangs in town and was going to have her killed, and didn't care who got caught in the crossfire.

Sure enough, as I got closer, I spotted at least a couple of bodies laid out on the sidewalks who couldn't have possibly been involved, meaning these were civilians that had been killed in an attempt to take out Alfonso. The whole thing made me think of the story Dad had told me about why Mom had disappeared. And now, here I was, about to do the same thing, stepping into the middle of a mob war to try and save people. The only difference being, no matter how this ended, I wasn't going to run away.

Having just thought that, though, I found myself reconsidering this plan as Tammy brought out her weapon of choice and started opening fire with it. It looked like some kind of custom-made tommy gun with a frag grenade launcher attachment. I guessed that's how the car on the other side of the road was currently a burning wreck. THAT was bad enough, but then, as she pulled it out, I spotted one of the gangsters on the opposing side pulling out, of all things, a freaking RPG. They had it aimed at a van that a few of Alfonso's people were hiding behind.

Oh, I hope this works...! I thought as I shot down toward the van, solidifying myself as much as I possibly could. I managed to get in the path of it and the RPG just as the latter was shot off. The resulting collision and explosion knocked me backward into the van, sticking me into the side of it with a huge, person-shaped dent. Still, checking myself over, I looked to be alright, if not a little bit singed. I then turned intangible, freeing myself from the van, and floated up over the road for everyone to see.

"...A-Are you seein' this?" a mobster asked, his jaw threatening to hit the ground.

I looked over the situation. Alfonso and her entourage were all on one side of the street. I recognized most of them from either being at the factory or being involved in small petty crimes around town, including the blond guy from the convenience store robbery I'd broken up. The rival gang, however, were complete unknowns to me. I didn't have much time to think about it, though. Just then, I spotted more corpses, consisting of another fallen pedestrian and a pair of gangsters from the rival mob that had been shot and killed. I could feel my fists tighten at the sight of the bodies, and made the decision right then and there in my head that this had long since gone too far.

"I don't care who started this!" I shouted, looking over the two gangs. "Put your guns down, and nobody else needs to get hurt!"

"Or else?!" one of the rival gang's men demanded.

I lowered herself down to touch the ground. "Or I can make you. Your call."

The gangster just scoffed, quickly unloading an entire clip out of his assault rifle at me. I just stood there and let them hit until he ran out of bullets, having turned too solid for any of the bullets to do a damned thing. Once he did, I sunk underground, freaking the mobsters out, and then came out directly in front of the man that shot at me. He tried his luck with a knife, but before he could finish drawing it, I hit him in the jaw and knocked him backward into two more of his buddies.

"Anyone else?!" I demanded, trying my best to keep calm.

"Hey, 'Blondie'!" I heard someone shout behind me, turning just in time to see Fonzie shoot a grenade at the building towering over me. The grenade blasted a piece out of the building, causing rubble to fall toward me. Of course, phasing through it would be easy, but the man that shot at me and the gangsters he crashed into were still on the ground and would be killed, and there wasn't time to grab them and phase down through the sidewalk. So instead, I grabbed both corners of my cape, made myself as solid as I could, and dove over the men, using myself as a human shield. I managed to protect them from the debris that fell around them, encompassing us in a large pile.

"What the hell?!" one of the men under me screamed, along with a few other choice expletives.

"Stay down!" I yelled, trying to stay focused on keeping the debris up.

Unfortunately, trying to keep my mind focused on a task like this was getting progressively harder with every second. It was clear that the guy screaming his head off was claustrophobic. He looked like he was on the verge of having a heart attack. His friends didn't look to be doing much better, and I knew it was only a matter of time before it got to me too, and if it did, I'd lose my focus.

Knowing I was short on time, I started weighing my options. I knew there wasn't enough time to grab the guys and phase through the ground. The debris would crush us the second I started to try. Lucky for me, though, my dad had given me a new option not long before.

"What's your name?!" I groaned under the weight of the debris.

"...S-Stan!" the guy who was freaking out managed to stammer.

"Okay Stan, listen carefully!" I replied, giving a small smile. "When I say 'Now', I want you and your friends to push up and away on the debris!"

"Do you have any idea how heavy that stuff must be?!" the guy I'd punched earlier asked.

"Trust me, it's not gonna be that heavy much longer...!" I said with a moan, shifting my hands around to grab hold of the blown-apart stone and push my head up against the debris over us. "...NOW!"

Thankfully, they all took me seriously enough to try what I said and started pushing. As they did, I started changing myself and the debris to be much lighter, shoving up against them. With one big yell, we all pushed the hunks of stone away, escaping into the open air again. Unfortunately, using that trick again so quickly after the truck was a bit more than my body was ready for, and I nearly fell over in exhausting, just barely managing to catch myself.

"Go team...!" I exclaimed in a bit of a woozy tone, stumbling a bit as I tried walking forward.

At that point, I guess Fonzie had noticed us getting out of the debris, because she was looking across the road at me like she'd seen a ghost. She glanced down at her gun which, at some point, she'd either put down, or it had managed to fall or get knocked out of her hands. Seeing what she was about to do, I gave myself a shake as I jumped into the air, flying toward her. Just as she managed to grab her gun and aim it up, I was right there in front of her. I grabbed hold of her gun and yanked it out of her hand before turning my right knee solid as it could be and breaking the gun over it.

_Bad idea...!_  I thought as I felt myself start to get a charlie horse from the rapid changes to my leg. I landed on my left foot, wincing in pain as I grabbed my knee, giving Fonzie enough time to back off. I saw her reach her right hand into her pocket and I raced forward again, grabbing her by the collar of her coat and slamming her against the door of the nearest car to us.

"Y'know, I really HATE being called 'Blondie'," I groaned, trying to block out the pain and exhaustion. "You've managed to stay out of jail WAY too long, Fonzie."

"Hey, I'M just defending myself from these crazy-ass mobsters!" Tammy blatantly lied with a smirk. "THEY opened fire on US while we were making a simple business trip! And oh look, they even killed some poor man getting groceries!"

"You're not worming your way out of this one," I insisted, tightening my grip on Fonzie's collar.

Alfonso simply sneered, slowly pulling her empty hand out from her pocket. "Oh, and I suppose YOU'RE gonna bring me in? You got spunk, kid, I'll give ya that. I like girls like that."

While my eyes were focused on Fonzie's right hand, I caught a quick glimmer of light in the corner of my sight. I was too slow to react, though, as she managed to cut across my right hip with the knife hidden in her left sleeve. I cried out in pain as I backed off, creating some distance between us. Fonzie charged and tackled me into a wall, then threw me down onto the sidewalk, pinning me down by the cape with her knife before mounting me.

"Truth be told, I REALLY like girls like that," Fonzie muttered, reaching for my face. "Let's get a better look at that pretty face of yours..."

"You're SO not my type!" I groaned, turning intangible and floating up, causing Tammy to flop onto the pavement. Then, before she could react, I turned solid again and dropped an elbow down into the small of her back. I rolled onto my side, clutching my hip, just as I heard the sound of sirens approaching from all sides. "Looks like the end of your era is finally here, Fonzie."

Alfonso growled at this, only for her face to perk up at the echo of a loud roar, following by the sounds of crashing cars. "Don't be so sure, babe. Looks like my Get-Out-Of-Jail-Free card just arrived...!"

I turned and looked in the direction of the roaring and crashing. Sure enough, stomping toward the crime scene was Cleaveland, now holding a freaking battle ax in both hands. He was actually managing to ram his way past a couple of police cars, sending them slamming into telephone poles. I could hear screaming from all around, as criminals, civilians, and policemen alike were in fear of this monster coming for Fonzie.

I glanced back down at Alfonso, who was starting to crawl away. I knew I couldn't just let her get away, but I also knew that, if Cleaveland wasn't dealt with, not only would he do even more damage, but he'd get a lot more people killed. Still, I couldn't fight him here. I needed somewhere there'd be a lot less people. My mind floated back to the quarry, the one I'd done my training in. It wasn't far from there. I just had to get him there, was all.

Thinking quickly, I reached into my belt and threw a pellet of adhesive goo at Fonzie, sticking her to the sidewalk. "YOU stay right there. I've got a MUCH bigger problem to deal with right now."

Alfonso screamed in aggravation as she found herself immobile. I knew it wouldn't last long, but if I could take Cleaveland out of the equation, it would at least give the police a bit more time to break the rest of the gun fight up and apprehend her. So, with that out of the way, I flew at Cleaveland as hard as I could, turning super solid, and tackling into his mid-section. Then I locked my arms around him and shot us both up into the sky, heading directly for the quarry, all the while he kept punching and kicking at me, trying to get me to release him. Finally, just as we were coming up to the quarry, he slammed his ax across my back, and while it didn't slice me at all, it DID hurt just enough to knock me out of the sky, releasing him and sending us both tumbling into and across the stones of the quarry.

"Ow," I moaned, rolling onto my hands and knees. "Okay, that was a landing I could've done without..."

Pulling myself up to my feet, I looked a few feet away as Cleaveland began to do the same, using his ax to prop himself back up. He growled at me as he gripped his weapon in both hands. Doing my best to block out the pain, I raised both of my fists, getting into a fighting stance. As the two of us rushed each other, I knew in my head that this was probably going to be a VERY ugly fight, and yet, of all thoughts to be relieved by, I kinda find it more than a little hilarious which one did it at that exact moment.

_Thank God tomorrow's Sunday._


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter's a little bit on the late side. I decided to have a few people look over it to determine if it was long enough or not. Big thank yous to everyone who read it. You know who you all are. ^_^

Can I take a minute and ask you something? What is your most precious memory? Why that one specifically? What makes it so precious to you? Because here's a thing: I'm willing to bet a lot of people would guess mine was when Olette and I came out to each other. And don't get me wrong, that's a VERY good memory. That first kiss we had after we admitted to being gay and liking each other was GOOD. But I think a lot of people would be surprised, though, to learn that that's not my most precious memory. Although, it DOES involve Olette. My most precious memory comes from the day I returned to school after Mom had run off. I remember not wanting to go that morning. Or ever again, really. I just wanted to stay at home, curled up in bed, and never leave ever again. But I couldn't do that, so I went to school, sad as I was. I managed to make it to recess without breaking down, but that's when I had to go to the girls' room and cry my eyes out.

I know, not exactly sounding all that precious. Just bear with me. Point is, I was in the girls' room, crying harder than I could ever remember crying in my life up til then, when someone came in. And, sure enough, it was her: My Olette. My oldest friend. My soulmate. Even back then, she was empathetic enough to me that she could pick up on something being wrong. Somehow, I managed to get out what was wrong between wails. And Olette, before we knew what we really felt for each other, when it didn't really mean anything romantic, gave me a kiss on the cheek and hugged me tightly, letting me get it all out. That was the day I realized I could come to her with ANYTHING, and she would ALWAYS have my back.

So, what's the point of all of this? Well, very simple. The point of asking that and recalling this memory was to make clear that, despite the incredible danger I was in, charging a hulking, walking cutlery aisle, and how glad I was that Olette was nowhere near that fight, part of me REALLY wished she was there to have my back. For emotional support, I guess.

Cleaveland and I connected hard in mid-air, my foot slamming hard into his ax. We actually managed to stay hanging in the air for a few seconds, I guess because he was in contact with me, before we finally shoved each other apart and landed on the ground with a couple of feet between us. Despite how hard I'd made my foot, I could still feel where the ax had made contact, and I was sure that his superstrength was beating out my ability to turn super solid. It didn't help that my body was already worn out a bit, both from exhaustion and the blood loss from the cut in my hip, and he wasn't showing any signs of being tired out. This made it clear that fighting him head-on wasn't going to end in my favour, which meant I was gonna have to be a bit smarter about this.

I felt my ears ringing as Cleaveland roared and charged at me again, ax in both hands. Thinking fast, I phased down into the ground, disappearing from sight before he had a chance to bring the ax down into the rocks where I once stood. I came back up a couple of feet away, smirking at him as my inner troll came up with an idea.

"Ever play Whack-A-Mole?" I asked before lowering back down into the ground. Every time Cleaveland would swing his ax for my head, I'd go back down and come back out somewhere different, yelling things like "Missed me! You're too slow! Bazinga!", and so on.

It was pretty clear that my little game was getting on Cleaveland's nerves, and that's exactly what I wanted: To rile him to where he made himself as exhausted as I was. Unfortunately, it didn't take long for me to get him REALLY angry, and after half a minute of this, he finally got fed up, lifted his ax up over his head, and brought it blunt-side down really hard. Not only did this break the actual hacking part of the ax, but it sent out a small shockwave that blew the rocks around him away and sent me spinning out of the ground.

_Guess my body isn't completely impervious to some forces while I'm intangible,_  I thought as I touched back down onto the ground.  _Either that, or I'm just getting too tired to block it all out._

Before I really had much of a chance to contemplate this anymore, or do anything else for that matter, Cleaveland was on me again. He swung the broken remains of his ax into my side, knocking me away. I moaned as I hit the ground, tumbling across the rocks. I'd just barely managed to make myself more solid to absorb the impact a bit better, but he'd still gotten a really good hit on me, and it was hurting something bad. The good news was, despite the fact that I couldn't see any sweat because of the big, heavy outfit he was wearing, I could tell he was beginning to breathe a little heavier, meaning he was finally starting to tire out. The BAD news, though, was that I had been to that point for a while now.

I staggered a little as I got back to my feet, backing up against something big and smooth. Glancing back, I saw that it was a wrecking ball on a line. It must've been left there the last time the quarry workers were there. I knew I was already tired out pretty bad, and this next trick I had in mind would only make it worse, but seeing Cleaveland pull out a meat hook on a chain made me realize I didn't have many options left. Grabbing hold of the line, I focused on making it and the ball it was hooked to lighter before pulling up on it, sending the ball up into the air and swinging it at Cleaveland's meat hook, knocking it out of his hands.

"And for my next trick...!" I yelled, lifting off the ground and turning myself and the wrecking ball intangible.

I swung the ball around and around as fast as I could, sending it down into the ground and back up again over and over. Once I'd gotten it to spin fast enough that, I let go. As it returned it to its original mass and solidness, it still managed to burst up through the rocks. It slammed into Cleaveland hard, the rocks exploding up around it pelting him as well, and both Cleaveland and the wrecking ball crashed into the side of a hill.

Almost immediately after letting go of the wrecking ball, I found myself back on the ground and on my knees, sweating hard. I was officially running on fumes at this point. After everything I'd been through that night, doing that trick with the ball was finally my breaking point. But, the good news was, Cleaveland was down, meaning I had a chance to recover...for about ten seconds.

To my horror, the wrecking ball started to move away from the hill as Cleaveland got up from underneath it. The lens in his hood was smashed out, revealing a very bloodshot eye underneath. He hoisted the ball up over his head with an aggravated growl before hurling it at me as hard as he could.

"Oh, come on!" I moaned pathetically, rolling out of the way before the wrecking ball crashed down.

Somehow, I was able to get to my feet after I stopped rolling, even though my whole body felt like it was ready to just stop working. Unfortunately, I wasn't quite fast enough to move out of the way as Cleaveland came stampeding at me. I could barely solidify at all to absorb the impact as he tackled me down to the ground. It felt like I'd just been tackled by a boar. I looked up in a daze as Cleaveland reached into his coat to pull out a steak knife.

I was sure this was it, that I was about to die, but that's when I felt something pressed against the side of my lower back. It was the meat hook I'd knocked out of Cleaveland's hand earlier. Without any other options, I reached down and grabbed it, swinging it up to block the knife as it came down. The collision of the two was so hard it sent sparks flying. Small ones, mind you. Nothing too harmful. At least, not to me.

As the sparks flew off the weapons, Cleaveland howled in pain, recoiling as he held a hand up over the eye hole of his mask. I scrambled away as much as I could during this brief reprieve from the fight. After a few seconds, Cleaveland pulled his hand away, revealing that his eye had become a LOT more bloodshot. Suddenly, it occurred to me why he had a tinted lens in his mask.

"...You don't like light," I muttered, shakily getting back to my feet.

All I got was a roar in response, but I took it as a yes. Cleaveland readied his knife again, preparing to attack me, but this time, I was more than ready. This time, I had the ultimate weapon my father had left me in his old belt, which I pulled out right away. I took aim at Cleaveland and, in a moment I'm SURE I made as over-dramatic as possible with my body language, I turned the flashlight on. I was then treated to the image of Cleaveland, the hulking brute who had taken out cop cars earlier, backing off in pain from the sight of the light from an ordinary flashlight.

Just as I was feeling good about this change in the fight, though, Cleaveland chucked his knife at the flashlight, knocking it out of my hand and breaking it. With the light gone, he hurled himself at me, trying to tackle me again. This time, though, I was able to move out of the way, letting him slam down into the rocks. He tried again, and again, he missed. And again, and again. It was around the fifth or sixth failed tackle that I realized what had just happened: It wasn't just pain. The light had actually killed off some of his power. That's why he wore that big, bulky costume that covered up his whole body, and why he only had a single lens in the mask to see through. Just like my powers had done, his had given him a weakness, one that he needed to work around and make sure wasn't exploited.

It was right around that time that a massive beam of light shot down into the quarry, right onto Cleaveland. As he fell to his knees, writhing in agony as he tried to pull the hole in his mask down enough to keep the light out of his eyes, I looked to the source. It was one of the giant lights set up to brighten the place up at night. And who was standing right next to it, having turned it on? None other than my guardian angel herself. I later found out that Olette had caught sight of me taking Cleaveland out of the shoot-out on the news and had Dad drive her and Scotty to the quarry. Of course, Dad wasn't supposed to be driving, but I doubt any of them thought of that. Instead, they'd watched and waited for the chance to help.

A second beam of light was switched on, followed by a third, all of which were focused on Cleaveland. Olette, Dad, and Scotty had aimed them all to focus on him after seeing how much he hated light. I knew it was only a matter of time, though, before Cleaveland did something drastic to get out of this situation, so I had to make my move as quickly as I could. I threw myself onto him and grabbed hold of his mask, trying to tear it off. It didn't take long to realize, though, that he just had too good a grip on it, meaning I needed a better one. With no other choice, I silently apologized to my hands as I phased them into the baggy sack, turning my fingers solid and letting them cling tightly to the inside of the mask.

"Regret, regret!" I cried as pain ripped through my knuckles. Despite that, though, I planted both feet onto Cleaveland's back and pulled back as hard as I could with a scream. Finally, I could feel the mask start to tear itself off, until I fell off of Cleaveland's back with the mask in my hands. I could feel my hands cramping up hard as I dropped the mask, but that was nothing compared to what Cleaveland was going through.

Cleaveland fell to his hands and knees, and for the first time, I saw his full face. He was completely bald, he had a crooked nose, probably from a previous break, and, most glaring of all, he only had one eye. The other looked like it had been gouged out years ago. In that moment, I realized everything he must've been through with the people who had sold him to Fonzie, and I felt extremely sorry for him...at least, until, despite the pain racking his body, he got to his feet, a murderous glare on his face.

I knew I had to end this fight right then and there. With my hands the way they were, though, I knew I couldn't count on them. So, instead, I put as much solidity as I could into my feet, digging them into the ground before launching myself into the air. Cleaveland ran at me at the same time, arms stretched out to grab hold of me. With everything I had, I gave him a hard dropkick to the chest, and to my relief, it managed to knock him back down to the ground.

I fell on my butt onto the rocks, watching as Cleaveland lay on his back. Slowly, he started to stir, trying to sit back up, but he then fell back down, his strength completely gone. That was enough for me to finally let myself lay on my back as well, glad it was finally over. I'm not sure how long I laid there on my back before Olette, Scotty, and my dad came into view, all asking if I was okay. I just remember smiling and giving a weak thumbs up, and then Scotty and Dad helping me to my feet, and after that, I must've passed out, because all I remember from then on was darkness.


	15. Chapter 15

...So, I know what you're thinking. I overcame my personal issues, became a superhero, and beat the bad guys. So, why am I still writing about all of this? Story's over, right? Wrong. Actually, I can't help but feel like my story's just barely gotten started. But as the start of my story, I can't help but talk about what happened after all of that. It's just important to know.

After the fight with Cleaveland, I was taken home to rest up. Lucky for me, Scotty's good at more than just stitching together fabrics, and managed to patch up the cut on my hip pretty well. As for Cleaveland, Dad had him delivered to the police with instructions to keep him in constant light. Last I heard, they've got him locked up in a special little prison cell just for him, and are trying to get information out of him about Fonzie and how he was sold to her.

The bad news to all of this, though, was that Fonzie somehow managed to get away in the insanity of everything that happened. I guess the cops got too held up trying to deal with everyone else trying to shoot each other up to get to her before the adhesive goo wore off. The GOOD news, though, is that there's currently a man hunt (woman hunt?) for Alfonso, and if she wants to evade the cops, she's gotta stay underground and out of the criminal scene, so one way or another, her days of running the criminal underworld of Star Lake are over. Of course, there'll be others who try to fill the void left by her, but I'll deal with them soon enough, too.

Speaking of, after I'd given myself some time to rest up on Sunday, I got in my costume and went out that night to speak with the police. It just seemed like the right thing to do. I'm not sure if a single one of them knew what to make of me. Long story short, I gave them kind of an abridged version of what happened to lead me to being Starslip, while keeping out anything that might help them find out who I was, and shared what I knew about Fonzie, her headquarters, and the fact that Mack's killer was in the hospital after being fed to Cleaveland. From what I've heard, Dom plead guilty to all charges, but on the condition that he serve his time in witness protection from Alfonso. In return, he gave them everything he knew about her operations. Not exactly justice for Mack's death, but knowing him like I did, he probably would care more that they finally had Fonzie on the run. That makes me feel a little better, at least.

There're still a lot of unanswered questions in all of this, though. For example, what's the deal with that Roy guy who tried to have Fonzie killed? Who was he REALLY working for? Are they gonna be the ones to try and take over crime in Star Lake? And then there's this whole thing about people apparently SELLING off Superhumans, like they were slaves or something. I'm not saying I'm exactly weeping over Cleaveland's current situation, since he's still kind of a psycho killer, but what happened to him is STILL messed up. Plus, I get the feeling a lot of who he is might be as a result of his treatment. Yeah, I know, trying to find the good in someone who tried to kill me, how clichéd, but I can't help it. And how many more people are being sold off like that? It's something I'm gonna have to look into in the future.

Anyway, really, the end of the beginning of my story was probably this past Wednesday, which is hilarious to me. Why? Because that means everything that happened to me, all that insanity, happened in just one week. Yeah, as Olette pointed out to me at one point, this isn't even a Year One story. This is Week One. Crazy, isn't it? And how different is my life now? Well...

"CASSANDRA LINDA DOYLE, GET YOUR BUTT OUTTA BED!" I heard my dad yell from the kitchen that morning. "You're gonna be late for school!"

Yup, second verse, same as the first. Well, except this time, I made sure to get changed out of my pajamas and into my school uniform BEFORE I left the house. Oh, and on top of my gym clothes, I also had a certain other change of clothes in my bag for after school. Yeah, that's a thing now. And yes, that DOES make getting homework done a lot more of a hectic process.

On my way down the hall, I said my usual good morning to the picture of my mom. And yeah, that's another thing on my To Do list, to find her. She's out there somewhere, and I'm gonna bring her home someday. I'm not really sure when and where to start looking yet, though. Probably won't start until the end of the school year. All I know is, when I find her, she and I are gonna have a LONG talk about everything. I mean, don't get me wrong, I understand what she did, but I still stand by the belief that it was the wrong move.

"Morning, Dad!" I greeted as I literally flew into the kitchen and plomped my butt down in a chair.

"Another late night, huh?" Dad muttered, placing a plate with waffles in front of me. "What is it this time, huh? Homework or crime?"

"Actually, finally finishing The Big Sleep," I admitted as I chowed down on a waffle. "I think I might read it again, though. See if anything makes more sense on a second read-through."

"Uh huh," my dad replied with a smirk, sitting down and doing a crossword puzzle. "Oh, Scotty called last night. Said he had an idea for the adhesive gel being packed into some kind of throwing stars. The blunt kind that don't stab into people."

I gulped down my orange juice, taking what Dad said in. "...Well, would help stick with the whole star motif, I guess. You two have any idea how you're gonna pull that off?"

"Oh, we bounced a few ideas off each other, and told each other we'd talk more about it tonight," Dad admitted before laughing at his puzzle. "Good grief! Thirteen down is 'Intangible'!"

"Of course it is," I moaned, laying my head on the table for a moment and blushing before standing up. "Well, I better get going. Don't wanna be late."

"Call me before you go to work, okay?!" Dad yelled as I headed out the door.

"Will do!" I shouted back before making my way to the bus stop. And yes, I still use the bus to get back and forth from school. Just because I COULD fly to school doesn't mean I should, or that I even have to.

Speaking of my bus ride to school, though, can I just say, for the record, how bizarre it is to see people on the bus on my way to school reading the newspaper or looking up online news sites on their phones, and there's my face in the news? Every once and a while, I catch someone glancing over at me, and then back down at the article they're reading. Do they know it's me and just don't wanna say anything? I dunno. They might. I guess a domino mask doesn't really cover up TOO much of my face. Then again, I've brought that up to Dad, and he says that, as long as people are more intrigued, awed, or impressed by Starslip, they won't care who is under the mask, or pick up on the obvious clues as to who it is anyway. I'll admit, I don't exactly know how to feel about that, but whatever. Probably makes it easier for me. I mean, being Starslip is great, but having everyone know it's me and being forced to basically be her 24/7? No thank you.

By the way, one thing that hasn't changed? I still get spitballs shot at me. A lot. I guess the whole thing where they decided to lay off me after the fight with Charlotte wore off. Still, it's hard to care now that I can just solidify my head to where I don't even feel them, and nowadays, they just bounce right off instead of sticking in my hair. All in all, things could be a LOT worse.

Eventually, I got off the bus and made my way inside. As I went along, though, I couldn't help but notice a few students wearing rings that had a purple and yellow star on each of them. And yeah, that was Olette's idea. See, she figured that Facebook might not be the most secure way to keep a network of people who could share info with Starslip, so she started up her own server, the Star Link, for people to join, and had those rings made by one member as a way for us to recognize each other in public. I'm not sure what the teachers think of them. Probably just assume it's some kind of new trend. Which, I guess isn't TOO far from the truth.

Anyway, as I made my way to the hallway that led to my first class, I spotted Charlotte standing by her locker. It was the first time I'd seen her back in school since she bro-...since  **I**  broke her leg. And yeah, I know, she's the one who swung it at me with the intent to break my ribs, but that's still what happened. Of course, she still needed crutches to get around, but at least she seemed to be doing well enough to come to school. And I know this is becoming a regular thing for me to say, but I don't know what possessed me to do what I did next.

"...Hey," I said kinda meekly, walking up to the redheaded glamazon.

Charlotte huffed in annoyance, turning to face me. "Yeah? What do you want? Come to give me another hug in the hopes it'll finally turn me?"

I smirked at this, dropping the meekness. "Well, you know, the whole thing is a contest. First girl in Star Lake to make a homophobe their lover gets a free Blu-ray Player."

To my surprise, Charlotte actually laughed at this. Not a taunting laugh, or even a sarcastic laugh, but a laugh someone gives when someone says something genuinely funny to them. So, I laughed a little too. Not sure how exactly we became the people who laugh together at stuff, though. I think I still kinda hate her, but she's at least toned the bullying of me down to small taunts and jokes, and I get plenty in myself. And, as far as I know, she isn't making anyone else's life a living hell, either. Not saying she's changed as a person all THAT much, but...well, I guess that talk we had was HER kick in the ass, too. Think I'm wrong? I guess I could be, but...well, I think the ring on her hand with the purple and yellow star on it says more than I could about the matter.

Oh, and as a side-note? I eventually found out where her family ACTUALLY was on Saturday when I went to go talk to her. Apparently, the whole thing in the backyard was her mother's wake-up call to make Dan go back to AA, and for the lot of them to see a family therapist. Saturday was Charlotte's mom and brother forcing him to go out and make these arrangements. As far as I know, he hasn't touched alcohol since, and they've got regular meetings scheduled throughout the next couple of months or so. So, I suppose Charlotte and I weren't the only ones to get our kicks in our respective asses, although I suppose Dan's was a little bit more literal.

Anyway, classes went by like usual, and before I knew it, it was lunch time. I headed outside to the tree in front of the school, and there was my angel, sitting in the shade with her nose in a comic book. Adorable as always. Somehow, out of everyone involved in the past week, she'd managed to walk out of it the least changed. Sure, she's doing whole new things, like acting as Homepage for the Star Link and coaching me while I'm in the field, but for the most part, she's exactly the same person she was when everything started. And God, I hope that never changes.

"Hey O," I greeted as I sat next to her in the shade of the tree.

Olette looked up from her comic and smiled, once again melting my heart in the most wonderful of ways. "Hey sweetie. How are ya?"

"Eh, can't complain," I admitted, giving her a quick nuzzle before looking down at her comic. "So, something new?"

"Yeah," O replied, putting it down. "...Y'know, I was thinking, maybe someday I should make my own comic? There's a new girl in school who joined the Star Link, Renee something, and she's supposed to be a pretty good artist. Maybe we could whip something up?"

"Oh yeah?" I asked. "What were you gonna call it?"

"I was thinking...'The Intangible Starslip'," Olette answered with a grin.

"Sounds like it'd bomb," I said, giggling as I laid back in the shade.

"You're such an optimist," Olette snarked, laying back next to me. The two of us stared up at the sky, watching the clouds pass overhead. "...Y'know, life's never gonna be exactly the same as it was before. You know this, right?"

"Yeah, I kinda figured that out when I put on tights and started exchanging punches with the rejected villain from Clock Tower," I acknowledged.

"And you're really fine with that?" Olette asked.

I shrugged. "I guess I kinda have to be. Besides...a little change isn't THAT scary."

Olette just rolled her eyes and nuzzled my shoulder, not really replying at all. I don't know if she really believed that I felt that way or not. But, you know, now that I think about it, I guess change really ISN'T scary, as long as you keep the people who can help you through it close to you. And, considering my life, the things I wanna do with it, and my future plans, I think maybe I'll put looking for Mom off for at least a little bit longer. After all, what better way to surprise her, when I finally do find her, then to do it with Olette's arm in mine, and the purple and yellow star ring on her hand swapped out for...let's just say a slightly different looking ring?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...And that's The Intangible Starslip. I just want to thank everyone who helped and supported this project, as well as those who have made fan art of Starslip. Thank you to my proofreader N. Harmonik, my LSBFF Teagan (little sister best friend forever), Catherine, Ben, Tim, Christy and Jeff (not me, different Jeff, lol), my GF Emmy-chan, Arkle, Chloe, Nikki-Lee, Rob, Ian, Jeremy, KoalaTheArtist, UniComicRN, EverydayBattman, EverHobbes, artisticamara, Jiubeck, delightfully-drawing, and JonasLull. And my thanks to anyone who might do fan art of Starslip in the future.
> 
> Also, I want to thank people who helped inspire this endeavour. Thank you to Bryan Q. Miller, Scott Snyder, Gail Simone, K. A. Applegate, and you guessed it, Lewis Lovhaug. Thank you all for being the outstanding people you are.


End file.
